


He Lives in Daydreams With Me

by juandrekshun1



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, Blow Jobs, Crimes & Criminals, Dark Harry Styles, Death, FBI Agent Louis Tomlinson, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Kinks, M/M, Serial Killer Harry Styles, Serial Killers, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:48:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 37,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28712295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juandrekshun1/pseuds/juandrekshun1
Summary: A Larry Stylinson AU where Louis is an FBI agent and Harry is the serial killer he’s after.Louis has had his fair share of psychopaths. Pyromaniacs. Rapists. But nothing could ever compare tohim. The Angel of Death. He’s another level of “insane.” The serial killer got his name due to his M.O.—spreading ashes in the shape of angel wings around his victims’ bodies. Louis takes the case, wanting to bring the son of a bitch’s reign of terror to a permanent end. Unfortunately—or maybeincrediblyfortunately—the Angel of Death, or Harry, as he prefers to be called, isn’t about to let that happen. (Especially when the sex isamazing.)This story is also up on Wattpad if you prefer to read there or just would like to see the cover of this story.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 47
Kudos: 27





	1. Case #0957QW-24XO

**Author's Note:**

> There’s a lot of smut in this. Just so you know. Read at your own risk.

“Louis!”

I froze. Oh, shit. I spun around to face Liam, who had a folder in his hand. “What’s up, Chief?”

“I’ve got good news,” he said with a half-joyous, half-grim look on his face. He held out the folder. “Say hello to case #0957QW-24XO.”

I took the file from him, frowning. “What’s so special about—” I stopped mid sentence when I opened the file. It was a thick file, full of pictures of dead bodies. But not just any dead bodies. His victims. “Oh.”

“You’re our best profiler here, Lou,” Liam said. “I think it’s about time you tackled this one.”

I let out a small chuckled. “Wow. Uh, thanks, Liam. I, erm...” I looked up at him. “This means a lot.”

“I’m giving you and your team as much time as you need,” he said. “But try not to spend every waking moment working on this case. We need you at your best.” He patted my shoulder before walking away.

I stared blankly down at the case file, my mind already working at top speed. I could analyze this file in about thirty seconds if I wanted to. I flipped through the pages a bit, examining the pictures. And that’s when I saw it. A message written in blood.

_They call me Azrael._

**\- - -**

I stepped out of my car, shrugging my jacket onto my shoulders. It wasn’t exactly cold out, but it was early spring in London. The temperature changes were all over the place.

I spotted a man with blonde hair a few feet away, scribbling something down. I approached him. “Name?”

“Jonathan Amos,” Niall replied, reading off his notes. “37 years old. A wife and two daughters.” He looked up at me. “You wanted another victim and, well, you got one.”

I sighed solemnly. “Count’s getting up there.”

“This is 331,” he said.

I ran a hand through my hair. “We need to find this son of a bitch before he moves again. Last time he did, it took us three months to find him. That can’t happen. Where’s Malik?”

“Analyzing,” Niall answered simply.

“Great.” I walked forward through the crowd of agents until I reached the body. A dark-haired man was crouching over it. “Report?”

Zayn stood up, pulling off his bloody gloves. “Same as usual. Asphyxiation. Slit wrists. I assume he choked on his own blood for a while. And then you have the wings.” He nodded to the dead body.

It was a man, like Niall had said. There was a ring of bruises around his neck in the shape of hands. There were perfect cuts around his wrists, blood pooling around his hands. His eyes were closed and his mouth open. The weirdest part was the ashes that were spread around his body in the shape of angel wings. They stretched for about twenty feet.

“Who found him?” I asked.

“Housekeeper,” Zayn replied. He nodded to a woman sitting on a bench nearby, a blanket wrapped around her. “Liam tried, but she hasn’t said anything yet.”

“Don’t blame her,” I sighed. “But we don’t have all day.” I stepped carefully around the body and walked up to her. She was staring down at her feet and rocking herself slowly. She looked young—probably in her early twenties.

I crouched down in front of her. “Hi. I’m Agent Tomlinson.”

She said nothing.

I cleared my throat. “Uhm, I was wondering if you could answer a few questions for me?”

Again, she stayed silent.

“What’s your name?” I tried.

Nothing.

I sighed. “Listen. I know you’re probably in a lot of shock right now. Terrified, even. But you can help us make sure this never happens to anyone ever again. If you saw anything, please, tell me. It could help us catch this guy.”

She stopped rocking herself. Without looking at me, she whispered, “His eyes.”

I frowned. “What?”

“His eyes,” she repeated. “They held no emotion. There were... empty.” She looked up at me, tears forming in her eyes. “What kind of person can kill another human being and not feel anything?”

“Psychopaths,” I answered simply. “That’s who. Thank you.” I stood up and turned to Maya, who had approached me.

“Anything?” she asked.

I nodded. “Something.”

**\- - -**

“As long as we’ve known this guy, he’s never once left a witness,” I said, sitting on the edge of the table. “He’s always been careful enough to kill where no one’s watching. And if he ever _does_ leave a witness, he kills them.”

“So why let the housekeeper live?” Niall asked.

“Exactly,” I said with a nod.

“She got close enough to see his face,” Maya pointed out. “She saw his eyes. Why on Earth would he let her live after she saw his face? If we get her in front of a sketch artist, we’ve got our guy.”

“He’s getting careless,” I said. “He doesn’t care about his identity anymore.”

“That also means he’s getting more dangerous,” Niall said. “If he doesn’t care anymore, who knows what he’ll do? We need to find him.”

“I agree,” I said. “But we don’t have any leads—” I stopped.

“Oh, I know that look,” Maya said. “He’s having a breakthrough.”

I jumped down from the table and crossed the room to the web of pictures hanging on the cork board. I stood with my arms crossed over my chest, examining the pictures from the latest crime scene. “The ashes.”

“What?” Niall asked.

“The ashes,” I repeated. “The bruises. Oh, it all makes sense now.”

“What does?” Maya asked, standing beside me. “Pleas elaborate, Lou.”

“Look at the bruising on his neck,” I said. “Every victim from our unsub has one hand print. This guys has two. And the ashes... they’re... they’re fake.”

“How can you tell?” she questioned.

“Look.” I grabbed a photo from a previous victim and slammed it on the board right next to the other one. “The ashes in the previous photos are fine powdered. Like baking soda. But these... these are too clumpy. They look almost rocky, you know?”

“What are you saying?” Niall asked.

I took a deep breath. “I’m saying that we’re dealing with a copycat.”

**\- - -**

Maya scoffed. “Hold on. You’re basing this off over what evidence?”

“The evidence right in front of you,” I said.

“Over some differences in powder?” she asked. “Louis, there’s barely a change—!”

“I know when I’m right, Henry!” I snapped. “And I’m right. You’ve gotta trust me on this one.”

She glanced at Niall, then at the board, then back at me. With a sigh, she said, “Okay. I trust you.”

I grinned. “Perfect. Now, I’m gonna need you to listen to exactly what I say.”

**\- - -**

“What?! What do you _mean_ we’re not going after him?!”

“Hear me out, Maya,” I demanded. “Our guy is a psychopath. He’s always fighting for assertiveness. If he finds out that some random dude is copying his M.O., he’s gonna go crazy.”

She frowned. “I’m only trusting you because Liam does. But sooner or later, you’re going to be wrong, and we’ll be the ones cleaning up the mess.”

I watched her walk away.

“Hey, at least she’s not threatening you with death anymore,” Niall said through a mouthful of taco.

“And yet, this somehow seems worse,” I noted with a small chuckle.

“I think Zayn’s done with the autopsy,” he said. “You can go check.”

“Thanks, Neil.” I started walking away.

“You _know_ my name is _Niall_ , you jackass!”

**\- - -**

I knocked on the door of the medical suite. “Zayn?”

“Come in!”

I stepped into the room. It was a pristine white color, the right wall covered in all of Zayn’s pictures and notes. On the left wall was a door that led to his office, which I knew was full of all his achievements and awards. Zayn himself was in the middle of the room, pulling off his gloves and tossing them in the trash. Luckily, he’d had the decency to cover up the dead body with a sheet so I didn’t have to see inside of it. I had a strong stomach, but sometimes guts were just too much.

“Report?” I asked.

“Just like I thought,” he said. “Major blood loss. Cut off airways. Same as always.”

“But it’s not the same,” I said.

He frowned and sat on his wheeled stool. “How so?”

“Copycat,” I said simply.

“Ah.” He sucked his teeth. “That would explain the lack of the branding.”

The branding. The _real_ Angel of Death always burned a marking into the back of his victim’s neck. It was the alchemical symbol for death.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“Actually—”

“Louis! There you are!”

I spun around to see an out-of-breath Niall. “What is it?”

“Another body,” he said quickly. “This one you _have_ to see.”

**\- - -**

I stared down at the body and sighed. “331.”

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Maya asked. “The copycat.”

“It’s the only logical explanation for _that_.” I nodded to the message on the wall that was written in the victim’s blood.

_‘Azrael works alone. So do I.’_

“So much for your plan,” she said. Despite how sarcastic those words should’ve sounded, she was much more disappointed than smug.

“This guy’s not slowing down,” Niall said. “He’s just going to keep killing.”

“Which is why we need to bring him in,” I said. “But we’re no where near having a complete profile. All we know so far is that he’s most likely in his mid-twenties and has a thing for older men.”

Maya snorted. “Good luck with that.” She started walking away.

“Where are you going?!” I called after her.

“To sleep!” she shouted back. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s almost midnight!”

I glanced at Niall. “Is it really?”

He nodded.

Oh, shit.


	2. 150

I dropped the file onto my desk. It landed with a loud _thump!_ “Here’s what we have so far: it’s a man, he’s a psychopath, and he’s gay.”

“That’s it?” Eleanor asked.

I nodded put on an obviously fake smile. “That’s it.”

“Tomlinson, you can’t build a case out of three things,” the DA spat.

“Four things, actually,” Niall cut in. “This bitch is kinky.”

I hid my laugh with a cough.

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe I came all the way out here for you incompetent balls-for-brains.” She sighed. “Listen. I’m giving you five months. You have five months to solve this godforsaken case, or I’m marking it cold. Got it?”

I nodded. “That’s more than enough time.”

“Then you better have it done,” she growled before stomping away.

As soon as she was out of ear shot, I turned to Niall. “That’s not _nearly_ enough time. We have _nothing_! What are we supposed to do?”

“Solve an unsolvable case?” Niall offered.

I nodded. “Yes, that’s good. Just one question: how the fuck are we supposed to solve an unsolvable bloody case?!”

“You’re smart.” He patted me on the back. “You’ll figure it out.”

I flipped him the bird. “Fuck you.”

**\- - -**

“He doesn’t tie up his victims,” Zayn explained. “There are no restraint marks on their arms or legs.”

“So how does he keep them still?” Maya asked, running a hand through her brown hair. “If he doesn’t tie them up, can’t they just run?”

“He’s strong,” I said. “He only needs one hand to choke them out. Probably has a decent build.”

“That’s what I never understood,” Zayn cut in. “It takes a shit-ton of pressure to snap someone’s neck and he can do it with just one hand? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“So we’re looking for a kinky giant,” Maya said. “Great. Shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

I bit my lip as I looked back at the photos. Kinky was right.

“Get your head out of the bloody clouds, Tomlinson,” Niall demanded. “The last thing we need is you losing it over this case because you’re too busy imagining what it would be like to fuck him.”

I jumped. “Niall! What the hell?! That is _not_ what I was thinking!”

He looked skeptical.

“Anyways,” Zayn said, “my point is that I _don’t_ think he’s using his hands. It’s gotta be something different.”

“Or maybe he uses both hands and is really good at hiding it?” I guessed.

“No,” Zayn said. “If he was using both hands, the bruises would be a darker color. It’s just the one hand. Or whatever he’s using.”

“So he’s Superman?” Maya asked.

“Enough with the weird analogies,” I snapped. “It’s not helping.”

Niall sighed. “Any connection between the victims?”

“Same one there’s always been,” I said. “Guys cheating on their wives.”

“There’s a lot of cheating bastards out in the world,” Zayn muttered under his breath. “331 victims in four years. 331 guys cheating on their wives in four years.”

“How’d he know?” I asked. “That’s what _I’m_ curious about. How’d he know that all these guys were dicks?”

“He’s gotta have some sort of inside intel,” Niall said. “Maybe he’s a therapist. Gets all the clients that regret screwing up their marriage. Then he kills them.”

I shook my head. “Doesn’t seem likely. He’s the kind of psychopath that can’t turn it on and off. He’s off his rocker all hours of the day.”

“Then what job do we give him?” Maya asked.

“He’s off the grid,” I said. “He doesn’t _have_ a job. Most likely commits credit card fraud to get himself money. He’s a veteran. Some military branch.”

“How do you know?” Maya asked.

“Shit like this?” I asked, nodding to the wall of photos. “That only comes from trauma. _War_ trauma.”

“And if you’re wrong?” Zayn asked.

I shook my head. “I’m not.” I turned to Maya. “Call Styles. I need to talk to her.”

**\- - -**

_“Greatest hacker of all time, at your service.”_

“Gemma! Great.” I flipped open the file in front of me. “I need you to find someone for me.”

_“Shoot.”_

“A man,” I said. “Late twenties. Veteran. Anywhere in the city.”

She snorted. _“Louis, we’re in a very large city. There’s probably hundreds of guys with that exact description.”_

“Just find him.”

 _“Bossy.”_ There was a bit of clacking as she typed away on her computer. _“Okay. There’s about a hundred and fifty guys in the city with that description.”_

I sighed. “Send me the list.”

_“Are you sure? There’s a lot of people to go through—”_

“Send it to me,” I demanded.

_“Uhm, alright.”_

“Thanks, Gem.” I hung up.

“Anything?” Niall asked.

“Styles is working on it,” I said. “We’ll have to see.”


	3. Victim 332

_“17 year old Krissy Langston was murdered last night at the hands of the Angel of Death. The world is losing faith in our federal agencies, due to the fact that they have yet to capture the man and put him in custody—”_

I turned off the TV.

“He’s changed his MO,” Maya said, worrying at her bottom lip.

“She was just a kid,” Niall lamented. “Great grades, volleyball team captain. She had a scholarship to Princeton.”

“All that washed down the drain by a psycho with a literal death wish,” I murmured. “Poor girl.”

“Her eighteenth birthday was supposed to be today,” Niall said.

“You’re really bumming us out, Neil,” I muttered.

“I’ll let it slide this time,” he said. “But only because I’m too fucked up to argue with you right now.” He sat down at kicked his feet up on the table.

I frowned. “What are you doing? We’ve gotta get to the scene.”

He groaned. “Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Five minutes.”

**Two Hours Later...**

“Malik.” I stopped in front of the CSI. “What do you got?”

“Cause of death: asphyxiation,” he said. “Same as always.”

“So he changed his victim, but not his methodology,” I said with a frown. “Why?”

Zayn shrugged. “You’re the profiler. I’m just the doctor.” He walked away, heading over to Liam and Maya.

I crouched down over the body. She had blonde hair that was flaked with ash and blue eyes that had gone pale. She looked fit, with rather large arm muscles. There was blood dribbling out of the left corner of her mouth.

I picked up some of the ash between my gloved fingers and spread the gray powder over my fingertips. I sniffed it. It smelled like ash.

A fresh coat of lipstick and mascara had been put on her face. That was odd. She’d been dead for over 24 hours. Her makeup should’ve been faded.

I tucked the hair away from her eyes. It felt soft, as if it’d been brushed.

I stood up suddenly. “Got something?” Maya’s voice asked from behind me.

“He’s gone perverted,” I scoffed. “That... That _psychopath_.”

“Louis.” She tried to grab me, but I moved away. “Louis, calm down.”

I forced my way to a quiet area and called Gemma up.

_“Hello?”_

“Tell me you have something,” I snapped. _“Anything.”_

_“I’ve got your list. It’s pretty straightforward— wait, that’s weird.”_

I frowned. “What’s weird?”

_“Uh, nothing. It’s nothing.”_

“It’s definitely _something_. What is it?”

 _“My, uh, my_ brother _is on this list.”_

I frowned. “Why is that weird?”

 _“He, erm”_ —she cleared her throat— _“he’s been in a mental hospital for the past six years.”_

My eyes widened. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

_“Yeah, I made sure you didn’t. People aren’t exactly congratulating you for having a psychopath for a brother. I’ll just... I’ll take his name off this list.”_

“If you don’t mind me asking, uhm, what _is_ his name?” I asked.

Silence. Then, _“Harry. Well, Harold.”_

“Thanks, Gem,” I said.

_“You got it.”_

I hung up.

“What is it?” Maya asked.

“I...” I looked at her with a grim expression. “I think... I think I’ve got our guy.”

**\- - -**

“Special Agent Tomlinson with the FBI,” I said to the doctor, holding up my badge. “I would like to speak with one of your patients.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “With all due respect, Agent Tomlinson, I don’t see how talking to a patient of mine could be at all the FBI’s business.”

“I just want to talk,” I said. “I believe his name is Harry Styles.”

The man’s eyes widened for a split second, but he quickly steeled himself. “Ah. Mr. Styles.”

“Yes, I would like to see him,” I said in a demanding tone.

The doctor glanced at the nurse that had escorted me there. Both looked a bit nervous.

He sighed. “As you wish. Please, follow me.” He stood up from his chair and walked out of the office. I did as he said and followed him through the halls. We passed the day room, where a few patients were sitting and talking. We passed rooms with open doors, some occupied, some not. We walked all the way down the hallway, and then turned down a set of stairs.

I frowned. “Where exactly are you taking me, doctor?”

“You asked for Mr. Styles,” he said. “Mr. Styles is down here. In our...” He hesitated. “ _Special_ ward.”

“Oh,” I said. “So he’s _insane_.”

The doctor turned to me with a frown on his face. “We do not use that term here, Agent Tomlinson. He’s mentally challenged. Not _insane_.”

I nodded. “My apologies.”

He started forward again. “Room 358.” He stopped in front of the door. “I should warn you. He’s not exactly... well, you know what he is. He likes to talk. If you’re going to get anything out of him, it’ll most likely be some sort of personal story. And whatever you do, _do not_ anger him. He’s dangerous.”

I scoffed. “No offense, doctor, but I can handle myself.”

He gave me a solemn nod. “For your own safety, you have fifteen minutes.” He opened the door and I stepped inside.


	4. Interrogation

The room was pretty bland. It was simply white, with thin curtains that barely blocked out any sunlight. There was a simple white bed in the center of the room.

And it was empty.

“Hey, Doc?” I asked. “When was the last time you checked up on him?”

The doctor stuck his head into the room. “Oh, for the love of God.”

“Yeah.” I walked out of the room and started back up the hall and a fast pace. I fished my phone out of my pocket. “Maya? Yeah, he’s not here.”

_“What? What do you mean?”_

“Room’s empty,” I explained. “Probably escaped through the window.” I sighed. “He’s gone, Maya.”

**\- - -**

I pulled up a picture on my laptop and put it on the big screen for everyone to see. I was a picture of Gemma’s brother. “Harold Edward Styles. Male. 26 years old. Was in the army for three years, but spent about a third of it as a hostage for a group of Iraqis terrorists. He was tortured for months before his unit finally found him.”

“I would almost feel bad for him if he wasn’t a psychopath,” Niall said.

“He wasn’t always one,” I said. “He spent two months recovering from his injuries, and then another one going through psych evaluation after psych evaluation. They said he was fine, so he went home.”

“I sense a ‘but,’” Maya said.

“But two weeks later, he had a psychotic break,” I explained. “Nearly burnt his own house down. Almost killed his girlfriend, too. His sister checked him into the hospital the next day.”

Zayn let out a breath. “Well, shit.”

I ran a hand over my face. “We should talk to the girlfriend. See if she knows anything we should know.”

“I’ll get her in here.” Maya disappeared a moment later.

“Should we talk to Gem—?”

“No,” I said quickly, cutting Niall off. “I don’t want her freaking out. We need her.”

He nodded. “Right, but... but how are we supposed to find him without her?”

“The old-fashioned way,” I said. “Let’s profile this jackass.”

**\- - -**

I stood in front of the group of police officers. “We’re looking for a 26 year old man. Curly brown hair, pale green eyes. No facial hair. Average build, but definitely muscular. A few tattoos, including that of the 23rd infantry. Scars, too. Lots of ‘em.”

“This man is dangerous,” Niall explained. “If you see any kind of weapon on him, be careful. He’s trained in everything from a rope to an AK-47. He’s positively mad and _cannot_ be reasoned with.” He hesitated before adding, “We advise you to shoot on sight.”

I nodded grimly. “You have your profile. Now, go.”

They all stood up from their seats and started gearing up.

“Louis.” I turned to face Maya, who had a woman behind her. “I’ve got the girlfriend.”

**\- - -**

“State your name for the record, please,” I said

“Uhm, I’m Frankie Marcus,” the woman replied.

“I just need to ask you a few questions about an old boyfriend of yours,” I explained. “A Harry Styles.”

She froze and tugged on the sleeve of her large sweater. “Oh. Him.”

“Tell me about your relationship with Harry,” I said.

“Uh...” She cleared her throat and stared down at the table. She twirled a ring around her finger. “I’ve known Harry since we were little. We were best friends. I had a huge crush on him for a while. We finally got together about a month before he enlisted. We wrote a lot to each other during his tour, but one day... the letters stopped.”

I frowned. “What happened?”

“I, uh”—she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear—“I got a phone call a few days later. It was his lieutenant. She told me that his unit had been captured and they’d managed a rescue. B-But...” She sniffled softly. “But they hadn’t managed to get him. I was heartbroken, obviously. I thought he was dead.”

“Did you find someone else?” I asked.

“No.” Frankie shook her head. “I couldn’t bring myself to. And when I found out he was alive...” She chuckled softly. “I was overjoyed. I went to the hospital as quickly as I could.” Her smile vanished.

“Frankie?” I asked. “What happened?”

“I don’t think I’d really processed what had happened to him, you know?” She looked up at me, her eyes rimmed with tears. “I don’t think I understood the kind of stuff he went through. For some reason, I was expecting him to be exactly the same as when I last saw him. But obviously...” She sighed. “He wasn’t.”

“How was he different?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Distant. Quiet. Like he’d... Like he’d done something wrong. I couldn’t understand why, though.” She was frowning. “ _He_ was the one that was captured and tortured. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

I nodded. “Ms. Marcus, were you aware that your ex-boyfriend is a homosexual?”

She nodded slowly. “I had my suspicions.”

“And, uh, I know this might be hard for you, but could you tell me what happened that night?” I asked.

“What night?” she questioned.

“The night he... snapped,” I said.

She took a shaky breath. “Okay. It was... It was a Saturday. Harry was still going through physical therapy. I was supposed to help him with his exercises. He was fine, except his arm would freeze up every now and then. I told him there was nothing to worry about. That it’d be fine soon enough. I thought he was alright. I thought he was—” Her voice broke and she wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. “He was trying to make dinner for the first time since he got back. I promised I wouldn’t help him. But then... then his arm froze up. He tried to keep going, but I told him to stop. He was going to hurt himself. But he wanted to make me food. And when I tried to stop him...” She pulled back the collar of her sweater, revealing a big scar stretching over her chest. A knife wound.

“Thank you, Ms. Marcus,” I said. “You’ve been a big help.”


	5. Are You Scared?

“What’d you get?” Niall asked when I walked out of the interrogation room.

“A lot,” I said. “She was really helpful. Add to the profile that he’s got a weird arm. He might hold it at a weird angle sometimes.”

Niall nodded. “I’m on it.” Maya approached as he walked away.

“How’d it go?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Not bad, but I’d like more,” I said.

“We’re not gonna _get_ more,” she lamented. “At least not until another body turns up, or we catch him.”

I sighed. “I hate to think we need another victim to find him.”

“Unfortunately, that’s how most serial killers work,” she pointed out.

“I also hate it when you’re right,” I growled. After a moment, I asked, “Hey, Maya?”

“What’s up?” she asked.

“Do you ever...” I hesitated. “Do you ever get scared? Scared that you won’t go home that day? Scared you won’t make it out alive?”

She pursed her lips. “Of course I do. Everybody does. But we can’t dwell on that. It’ll only make us want to stay away.” She turned to me with a small smile. “Get some rest, Tomlinson. You need it.”

**\- - -**

I drove myself home like I always did. I lived in a small apartment complex on the top floor. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

I walked into my apartment, shutting the door behind me. I kicked off my shoes and hung my coat up on its hanger. I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and took a bite out of it.

I froze at the sound of a small clatter.

I put down my apple slowly and started for the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar and the light was on. That was weird. I was _sure_ I’d turned the light off before I left.

I pulled my gun out from my back pocket and cocked it. I raised it slowly and opened the door...

I sighed in relief when I found the room empty. Talk about paranoia. I chuckled softly to myself. “Now, _you’re_ the one going crazy.” I turned around to go back to my food—

My gun clattered to the floor when I was suddenly shoved against the wall. I was met by wild green eyes that were surprisingly quite beautiful—

_Focus, Louis. He’s a psychopath._

Harry grinned, revealing a set of perfect white teeth. “Hello there.”

I scowled at him. _“You.”_

His smile only widened. “ _Me_. Little old me.”

“How’d you get in here?” I asked, my breath hitching when I felt something cool and sharp press against the skin just below my jaw. Knife.

He used his free hand to reach behind him and pull out a set of keys. “Snatched your backups from your car. As well as this.” He also pulled out my badge, which he opened. “Special Agent Louis Tomlinson, was it?”

I kept my face blank. “I know who you are, too.”

“Yeah?” he asked. “Who am I?”

“Harry Styles,” I said. “Your sister’s name is Gemma.”

Something flashed in his eyes, but it was gone just as quickly. “Ah, Gemma. She works with you, right? FBI.”

“She’s pretty good at her job,” I said.

He smirked. “Trying to stall, agent?”

I shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt.”

“Oh, it could,” he said. I winced slightly when he pressed the knife into my skin, feeling a warm line of blood trail down my neck.

Harry watched the blood fall, before sticking a hand out a swiping up a bit of it. He brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean. He let out a soft moan. “You taste so good, agent.”

I struggled against his grip, but he held me impossibly tight. “You’re insane.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he teased. “We don’t use that word here. I am mentally challenged. Not insane.” He licked his lips, cleaning off the extra blood that was lingering there.

I frowned. “So, you _were_ there.”

“You’d be surprised how easy it is to get scrubs from an orderly with just a bit of cash.” Harry bit his bottom lip. He leaned forward and inhaled deeply. “You smell nice too.”

I chuckled. “You kinky bastard. Let me go and I’ll fucking kill you.”

He grinned. “You haven’t seen nothing yet, agent.”

I gulped anxiously when he got even closer. He used his free hand to grab my jaw and press my head roughly against the wall. He then dragged his tongue along the trail of blood until he reached the cut he’d made, which he then sucked on. I let my eyes flutter shut and let out a shaky breath at the feeling.

He chuckled softly in my ear. “You liked that, didn’t you? Look at you.” He placed his thigh in between my legs. My eyes flew open and a gasp escaped my lips when he moved his knee upward, rutting up against my crotch. He laughed again.

“F-Fuck you,” I stammered, trying not to moan or show any signs of pleasure.

He pulled my head down so I would look in his eyes. He was smiling. “Listen very carefully, Special Agent Tomlinson. I like you. A lot. And I think that you could be of use to me.” He pressed his lips to my ear. “But tell anyone that I was here and I won’t hesitate to kill you. Got it?”

I didn’t say anything.

He looked back into my eyes, his own glancing at my lips, and then back up. He traced his thumb over my bottom lip. “Until next time, Louis. You better be ready.”

And with that, he raised his knife and hit me on the side of the head with the hilt. I was out like a light.

**\- - -**

I woke up in a cold sweat, my head pounding. I looked around to find myself back in my own bed, which was weird, seeing as I’d fallen unconscious in the living room.

I closed my eyes and relaxed into the bed. As the events of the night before clouded my mind, so did everything I felt. I could still feel Harry’s mouth and tongue on my neck. It sent a shiver down my spine.

I let out a shaky breath as I recalled his words.

_But tell anyone I was here, and I’ll kill you. Got it?_

Softly, I muttered the words, “Got it.”


	6. You Won’t Tell

“What the hell is up with you?” Maya asked when I walked into work that morning. “You look like shit.”

“It was a long night.” I took a sip from my coffee.

“What’s that?” Niall asked, gesturing to the bandaid I’d put over the cut on my neck.

“Cut myself shaving,” I lied. When Niall gave me a skeptical look, I said, “What? I have facial hair.”

He snorted. “Okay, Tommo.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, fuck off.” But it turns out that Niall calling me ‘Tommo’ was the least of my worries that day.

**\- - -**

I smoke when I’m stressed. Turns out that being targeted by a psychotic serial killer isn’t exactly a calming thing.

I stepped out into the alleyway behind the precinct, pulling out my pack of cigarettes and a lighter. I pulled out a stick and lit it, quickly taking a drag. I let the smoke linger in my throat for a moment, before blowing it out through my nose. It was quiet.

Almost too quiet.

My suspicions were confirmed about two seconds later when I was thrown against the brick wall. I dropped my cigarette and grunted. “Thought you’d at _least_ wait a day.”

Harry smirked. “Seems I just can’t stay away.” He leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “And based on how hard you got last night, you don’t want me to.”

With a growl, I placed a hand around his neck and flipped us around. I shoved him against the wall with brute force, which Harry moaned at. I gripped his jaw tightly and pressed my body close to his. I moved so our faces were barely a breath apart. “You son of a bitch.”

He chuckled. “You know, I kind of like it when you hit me. It turns me on.”

I scoffed. “You’re crazy.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t believe me? Feel for yourself.” He grabbed the hand that wasn’t slowing choking him out a placed it over the hard bulge in his pants. When I gasped, he said, “Believe me now?”

I stayed silent for a moment, one hand still gripping his jaw impossibly tight and the other one against his hard-on. Harry was biting his bottom lip, his eyes daring me to do something. _Anything_. So, I did the first thing that came to mind. The first thing that I really _wanted_ to do.

I pressed myself as close to him as I could, placing my forehead against his. I bit my lip and slowly started to move my hand, palming him through his tight pants.

He let out a soft breath. “Fuck. That’s it, baby. Faster.”

So I sped up my hand, watching as he slowly came undone beneath me. His breathing was getting heavier and heavier. I put a bit more pressure on him, which caused him to let out a moan. He tried to throw his head back, but I held him tightly with my grip. He bit his lip, but I pulled it out from his teeth with my own. I bit down hard enough to draw blood, which I then licked away. I tasted the salty liquid on my tongue. Harry watched me with wary eyes before I surged forward and pressed my lips to his. I forced my tongue into his mouth, also forcing him to taste his own blood. He didn’t seem to mind it all that much. Based on the moan he let out, I’m sure he actually liked it quite a lot.

When I pulled away, he licked his bloody lips and smirked. “And you say _I’m_ the kinky one.”

I grasped his chin in a tighter grip than before and turned his head roughly to the side. I whispered in his ear, “Shut. Up.” I started moving even faster and pressed a bit harder. I grinned when he rutted his hips up into my hand. “Look at you. So desperate for me to make you come.”

He growled low in his throat, but the sound quickly turned into a moan when I put a bit of pressure on his neck. “Fuck. I can’t tell if you’re trying to get me to suck you off or if you’re just trying to kill me.”

“Who said it can’t be both?” I nibbled on his ear lobe.

He was panting softly. I let up on my grip on his neck when he started to claw at my hand, but he shook his head when I did. “N-No, it’s not that, I— fuck!”

I realized what he meant. “Are you close, Styles?”

Harry groaned. “So bloody close.”

“Yeah?” I questioned, pressing on his neck once more. “Are you gonna come for me?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, his brow furrowed in pleasure. “I’m gonna come.”

Just to test something out, I bit his bottom lip again, once more drawing blood. The second I broke the skin with my teeth, he moaned loudly and his back arched up off the wall.

When he came down from his high and finally relaxed, he grinned. “Your turn.” He flipped me around and pinned me to the wall with his body.

I watched him with wary eyes as he licked his lips and smirked. He slowly dropped to his knees, maintaining eye contact the whole time. I worried at my bottom lip when he started to undo my belt. He didn’t pull my pants all the way down—he just undid them to the point where he could pull out my hard cock, which was already dripping with pre-come.

He stared up into my eyes hungrily, not once looking down, even as he licked a small circle around the head. I leaned my head back against the wall and huffed out a breath.

“Stop fucking teasing,” I spat when he just kept licking instead of doing anything.

“As you wish.” I gasped when I felt myself engulfed by something warm and wet and looked down to find Harry deep throating me.

“Oh, you mother _fucker_ —!” I threw my head back and moaned. I placed a hand in his hair and gripped tightly, knowing he liked a bit of pain. Or maybe a lot. We hadn’t gone far enough for me to tell.

He pulled off of me and I looked down to see him smirking.

“What’s so funny?” I asked with a frown.

“Who knew choking on your cock could be so fun?” he asked before going right back down on me. This time, he stayed all the way down until his face started to turn red and he gagged. He pulled away, coughing just once.

“I’d tell you not to hurt yourself, but that would ruin all the fun,” I said.

“Again, _I’m_ the kinky one?” He grabbed both of my hands and placed them on the back of his head. “Now fuck my mouth, you son of a bitch.”

I did as he said and used one hand to guide my dick into his mouth. Once it was there, I gripped the back of his head tightly and thrusted my hips into his mouth. And then I did it again. And again. And again.

“Fuck,” I panted. “Your mouth feels so good. So fucking good.” I tugged harder on his hair, satisfied when he groaned around me.

I kept thrusting into his mouth until I felt myself hit the back of his throat. And I kept thrusting until I felt that familiar bubbling in the pit of my stomach.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” I moaned. “I’m gonna come right into that pretty little mouth of yours.”

He suddenly grabbed my hands and pulled off. I whined pathetically at this, but he quickly compensated for the lack of his mouth by replacing it with his hand. He stood up and looked me in the eyes. “I wanna see you when you come, okay?”

I simply nodded, seeing as I was too overwhelmed by pleasure to say anything. He kept jerking me off until I was an inch from the edge. And when he ran his thumb over the head of my cock, that’s when I let go.

“You’re so pretty when you come,” Harry observed, slowing down his hand to let me come down. When he was sure I was finished, he raised his come-covered hand to his mouth and looked at it.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I said. “Don’t—”

But he ignored me and licked his hand clean. And thank god he did, because _damn_ it was hot.

As I buckled my belt back up, I said, “You should probably go. Y’know, before anyone finds you here. You are still our number one suspect in the Angel of Death case.”

“Oh, but I _am_ the Angel of Death.” He said this casually, as if he wasn’t admitting to the murders of 332 people.

I stared blankly at him. “Wait. You do realize that you just confessed, right? I could go in there and tell everyone that we have the right guy.”

“But you won’t,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow. “Really? Why not?”

“Because no one will believe you without any proof,” he said with a smug expression. “And the only proof you have is my blood on your tongue. Now, how exactly did it get there?” My eyes widened. “Exactly. So you’re not going to tell _anybody_ , agent. Unless you want to go to jail for what is _technically_ tampering with evidence.” He started walking away. “Guess your only option is to let them catch me. Which will never happen.” He bowed to me. “Fuck you later, Tomlinson!”

I watched him strut away, the realization of what had just happened finally settling on me. I slid down the brick wall and put my head in my hands. I just made the Angel of Death come. I just let the Angel of Death blow me. _I just fucked the Angel of Death’s mouth_. Not good, not good, not good.

I pulled my lighter out from my pocket. “God, I need a smoke.”


	7. Connection Between

It had been two weeks since the mishap in the alleyway. I guess he didn’t like me anymore. At least, I hoped so.

I was sitting in my chair with my feet propped up on the desk, chewing on the end of a pencil. I glanced at the pictures on my desk—picture of my sisters and my mother.

I sighed softly and put the pencil down. “Miss you guys.”

“Okay, everyone.” My head snapped up to see Maya standing at the front of the room. “We have our guy. All we need now is to bring him in. I’ve already notified every newspaper in the region and we’ve locked down the state. No one can get in or out without being thoroughly checked at the roadblocks. Sure, it’ll piss a few people off, but they don’t understand that we’re doing this for their safety. I’ve positioned an office at every roadblock. All that’s left is to just wait.”

Niall raised a hand.

Maya huffed in annoyance. “Is there something you’d like to add, Agent Horan?”

“Yeah, uh, DA Calder’s given us five months to bring this guy in,” he said. “Well, she gave us five months almost a month ago. Now we’re down to four and a half.”

“Your point, agent?” she asked.

“Most people would think that’s more than enough time,” he said. “But this guy’s smart. He’s avoided us for almost five years. He’s not gonna give up just because we know his face.”

“Niall’s right,” I cut in, making everyone turn to look at me. “Styles won’t bring himself just because he thinks he’s got no way out. He’ll find a way out. He always does.”

“Guys.” We looked up at Liam. “You’ve got another body.”

**\- - -**

“What do you got?” I asked Zayn.

“Female,” he said. “Seventeen. Student at Harvedale High. Cause of death: asphyxiation, just like usual. She’s been dead for about a week.”

“Have you identified her yet?” I asked.

“Julia Wolverson,” he replied. “Athlete. Good student. Scholarship to Penn State.”

“So it looks like he’s changed his victim for good,” I puzzled. “But his MO’s exactly the same. Interesting.”

“Well, there is this.” Zayn crouched down in front of the dead body. He pulled up her shirt, causing me to cringe. Carved into her stomach, blood pooling around her abdomen, was the word ‘Traitor.’

“Traitor?” I asked. “What the hell does that mean?”

Zayn lowered her shirt, stood up, and shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine, Tomlinson. The guy’s insane. Who knows what the hell he means?”

_We don’t use that word here. I’m mentally challenged. Not insane._

I shook away the words and cleared my throat. “Thanks, Malik.” I patted him on the back and marched over to Liam.

“What are we looking at?” he asked.

“Same victim as last time,” I said. “Blonde-haired girl. Seventeen years old. Bright future ahead of her.”

“How long has she been dead?” he asked.

“Zayn thinks about a week,” I said. _That probably explains why he hasn’t turned up in two weeks. He’s been busy murdering more innocent girls._

“Poor girl,” he sighed. “He probably lured her in with something she could help him with.”

“It’s a common ruse,” I agreed. “I’ll go talk to one of her friends. See if she knows anything.”

**\- - -**

“Can you tell me your name?” I asked the girl, pulling out my notebook for writing.

“Uhm, Fallon Hill,” she replied.

“What can you tell me about your friend Juliana?” I asked.

“Julie’s amazing,” she said with a small chuckle. “Straight A’s, basketball team captain—she’s going to Penn State, you know.”

“Were you aware that Juliana was murdered about a week ago?” I questioned.

The girl’s eyes widened. “What? Julie? No, no, no, there must be some mistake. Julie... Julie’s a good person! Who would want to hurt her?”

I ignored her question. “Listen, Ms. Hill. Is there anything about Juliana that I should know? Any secrets that she would only tell _you_?”

Fallon shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

She was lying. She wouldn’t meet my gaze and was fidgeting with the cuffs of her sweater. She was worrying at her bottom lip.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “There’s nothing? Nothing at all? If you tell me, we might be able to catch her killer.”

She hesitated before saying, “There is one thing. Julie, uh...” She inhaled. “Julie didn’t have enough money to pay for college. Her parents were struggling—her father had just been fired and was drinking a lot. So, she picked up drug dealing. Never took any herself, just sold some for a bit of money.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Fallon. I appreciate it.” I walked back over to the others.

“What’d she say?” Maya asked.

“I think I just found the connection between our girls,” I said.

**\- - -**

“Fallon told me that Juliana got into a little bit of drug dealing,” I explained. “I checked and our other victim, Krissy Langston, had the same problem.”

“So he’s going after good girls with drug problems,” Niall said.

“Not exactly,” I said. “Fallon also said that Juliana’s father had just gotten fired. Apparently, the whole family had money problems. She wasn’t _doing_ drugs, she was just selling them to help pay for tuition.”

“Then what was up with Krissy?” Maya asked.

“Same problem,” I said. “Sold drugs for money.”

“So he’s going after girls that help their families?” Zayn guessed. “I don’t understand.”

“He’s a psychopath,” Liam muttered. “You’re not supposed to.”


	8. Break In

I shut the door to my apartment behind me, leaning back against the wooden pane. I let out a deep sigh and dropped my keys on the kitchen counter.

I grabbed the remote from the table and clicked on the television. I opened the ice box and pulled out a pint of ice cream and grabbed a spoon from the drawer.

Taking both in my hands, I walked over to the couch and sat down. I opened the container of ice cream and dug my spoon into it. I placed the cold treat in my mouth, letting it linger on my tongue for a few moments before swallowing it.

I sat there for a few minutes, eating my ice cream and watching the TV. Everything was fine until...

“Good evening, agent,” a familiar voice whispered in my ear.

I froze with the spoon about an inch away from my mouth. I slowly lowered it back into the ice cream carton and placed it on the coffee table. “You _have_ to stop breaking into my house.”

Harry placed his hands on my shoulders and chuckled softly. “But that ruins all the fun.” He moved one hand up and into my hair. “I’d much rather come to you when you’re not expecting it.”

I breathed shakily when he moved his hands down my chest. “You killed someone else.”

“Ah, Ms. Wolverson.” He brought his hands down to my thighs and left them there for me to feel. “A lovely girl.” He moved his thumbs in small circles and I heard him chuckle when my breath hitched.

“Y-You _murdered_ her,” I spat. “She was an innocent girl.”

“I think you’re bringing this up because you’re avoiding the situation.” Harry squeezed my thighs roughly and bit down heavily on my ear.

I clamped my own hands over his, digging my nails onto his skin. “You do realize how morally wrong this is, don’t you?”

“I don’t really care,” Harry said. “And I don’t think _you_ do, either.” He dragged his tongue along the area behind my ear, making me shudder.

Slowly, I moved my hands off of his. The second I did, he whispered, “Didn’t think so,” and started moving his hands up and down my thighs.

My breathing gradually got heavier and heavier as he kept doing this and he seemed to notice. He also seemed to notice the steadily growing bulge in my pants, because the second it became prominent, he placed a hand over it and started rubbing slowly.

I sighed and leaned my head back against his shoulder. I closed my eyes. “Oh, fuck.”

“You’re so hard already.” He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of my sweatpants and tugged lightly. I lightly wrapped my fingers around one of his wrists. “If you don’t let me take care of it, you’re going to go to sleep tonight pretty uncomfortable.”

I hesitated before pulling my hand away. He took this as permission and pulled away both my sweats and my underwear in one quick motion, revealing my hard cock.

“Have I mentioned that you have a _very_ pretty cock?” Harry asked, breathing in my ear.

Before I could answer, however, he gripped me tightly in his hand and squeezed roughly. My back arched off the couch. “Oh, shit!”

Harry laughed. “Look how hard that made you. You like it when I hurt you, don’t you?” When I didn’t reply, he fisted my hair in his other hand and yanked my head back so he could hiss in my ear. “I’ll ask you again. You like it when I hurt you, don’t you?”

I nodded.

He tugged on my hair, making me moan. “Use your words, Agent Tomlinson.”

“Yes,” I gasped, painfully hard at this point. “Fuck, I like it when you hurt me.”

I looked up at Harry to see him grinning. He started jerking me off at a quick pace, speeding up until his hand was basically a blur. I was moaning and panting heavily. Through a loud groan, I managed to snake my arm around and place my fingers in his hair. It was softer than I’d first imagined, but I wasn’t complaining. It was nice.

He pressed a kissed to my neck and gave me another rough squeeze, causing me to cry out in pleasure. He whispered in my ear, “I love the sounds you make. They turn me on.”

I tugged on his hair and he growled low in his throat. “H-Har—” I couldn’t even say his name without moaning. “I’m— _fuck_.”

“Shh,” he said in a surprisingly soothing voice, running a hand through my hair. “Don’t speak. Just come for me, baby.”

I came from the deep sound of his voice, my back arching as my orgasm ripped through me. He kept stroking me until I whimpered from over sensitivity. When he finally pulled his hand away, he brought it right up to his mouth.

Harry moaned right into my ear as he licked my come off of his fingers. I was panting softly and my hand was still in his hair. Every noise he made got me the slightest bit harder again to the point where I had to pull my pants back up to hide my erection from him.

He chuckled softly when he was done. “Can I be honest?” He didn’t give me a chance to respond. “I think I’m slowly getting addicted to the taste of you.”

I exhaled shakily. “Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said. “But I can’t decide which taste I enjoy more: your come or your blood.”

My eyes fluttered shut as I recalled the first day he’d shown up here. The day he licked my neck clean from the blood he’d drawn. It didn’t take long for me to be fully hard again and based on what he said next, he definitely noticed.

“You’re so desperate for me,” he whispered. “Now, Agent Tomlinson, tell me what you want.”

“I want your cock in my mouth,” I answered simply, not bothering to open my eyes.

He chuckled in my ear. “Very well. You asked for it.” In one quick motion of pure talent, he jumped over the back of the couch and landed beside me on the black leather cushion. I looked at him in shock, but he just smiled at me. “Come on, agent. We don’t have all night.”

I shook myself out of my daze. I pounced on him, pressing him into the back of couch and straddling his waist. He looked up at me with a smirk, but I stopped him from saying anything by crashing my lips to his. He moaned softly when I rolled my hips against him, causing both of our hard-ons to rub up against one another. I smirked against his mouth, totally getting way too cocky.

I slowly slid down, pressing kisses along his neck and jaw. I moved down to the floor, gathering myself in between his thighs. He looked down at me, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. I licked my lips and undid his pants at a teasingly slow pace.

“Stop fucking playing around,” Harry snapped, placing a hand in my hair and yanking my head up to look at him. His face was angry.

Most people probably would’ve begged for forgiveness at the hands of a psychopath, but I just smirked and teased him by saying, “Sorry, Daddy.”

His face went slack and he loosened his grip on my hair. When he let go, I quickly pulled down his pants.

My eyes widened. “Oh, fuck. You’re so big.”

“Stop feeding my fucking ego and suck,” he spat.

I rolled my eyes and teased him once more. “Yes, Daddy.” Before I could gauge a reaction out of him, I picked up his large cock and stuck it in my mouth. I’ve had much more practice than I’d like to admit, which is why I was able to deep throat him in one go. I felt my pants tighten further when Harry moaned loudly.

I looked up at him to find his chest rising and falling quickly as he panted softly, his hand gripping his own hair tightly. When he met my gaze, he threw his head back and shouted a list of profanities that even _I_ wouldn’t say. And I swore a lot.

I took him as deep as I could, which was almost all the way. I gagged slightly when he thrusted his hips up into my mouth, but didn’t pull away. I could tell he was close.

“Oh, fuck.” I felt his hand in my hair, my scalp burning as he pulled roughly. “So good, baby.”

I decided to try something, just to see how he’d react. I used the hand that wasn’t gripping the base of Harry’s cock and slipped it under his balls. I felt around a bit until I felt his hole. The second I brushed a finger over it, I heard him inhale sharply. I slowly pushed that same finger in, satisfied when he moaned so loud I’m sure the neighbors could hear.

“Shit, Louis. I’m—” He couldn’t even get one more word out before he was coming down my throat. I was forced to swallow it all, though I wasn’t complaining all that much.

I pulled off of him and pulled my finger out, drool and come dripping down my chin. I raised myself up and kissed him sloppily, making him taste his own come. When I pulled away, I wiped away the stuff on my chin with two fingers and sucked it away, letting out a soft breath. Harry was watching me with lust-filled eyes, his pupils dilated with pleasure. I ghosted my wet fingers over his plump lips, dragging his bottom one down. His breath hitched when I did so.

“Y-You’re still hard,” Harry observed, stuttering slightly.

I moved so our lips were a breath away. “And? What are you gonna do about it?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that an invitation?”

I smirked. “Depends on what it is you’re thinking of doing.”

He gripped my waist and pulled me down. I gasped softly and placed my hands on his shoulders to steady myself when when I felt myself rub up against his already hard member.

I chuckled. “I got you off barely a minute ago. How are you already hard again?”

He bit his lip. “It’s difficult staying soft when you look so fucking sexy.” He gripped my hips tightly. I’d definitely have bruises in the morning.

Slowly—too slowly—he started rocking his hips up against mine. I let out a breathy moan and didn’t even realize when I started rocking back, faster than he was. He stopped, letting me take control. I gripped his shoulders impossibly tight as I ground down on his lap, my brow furrowed in pure pleasure.

“Oh, sh-shit,” I whimpered. Harry surged forward and started biting and sucking at my neck. I felt as he bruises he made formed on my neck, and I knew people would notice, but I didn’t make a move to stop him. It felt good, and that’s really all I cared about.

“Are you gonna come?” Harry breathed. When I nodded, he said, “Yeah? You’re gonna come for me? Say it. Say you’re gonna come for me.”

“I-I’m gonna come for you,” I gasped. “I’m gonna come so fucking hard for you.”

“Fucking come then,” Harry demanded.

I didn’t have to be told twice.

“Oh, _fuck_ Harry!” I came with a convulsion of pleasure, Harry following right behind. His breathing was shallow and shuddering, but in a good way.

When he started laugh softly, I frowned and asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he said. “It’s just... I’ve made you come three times now. I’m a serial killer and you’re the FBI agent that’s supposed to be tracking me down. Instead, you’re sucking my cock.”

I worried at my bottom lip and twirled a strand of his curly, brown hair around my finger. “Maybe I’m just not as innocent as you think I am.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Such a dirty boy.”

I smirked and pressed my lips to his. It wasn’t a rough kiss like before. It was softer. Slower.

I pulled away and glanced at the table. “Ah, man. My ice cream’s melted.”

Harry laughed loudly, his thumbs drawing invisible circles on my thighs. “Disappointing.”

I cleared my throat. “Uh, you should probably go.” I rolled off of him, sitting beside him on the couch.

He sighed. “Right.” He stood up. “It’s been a pleasure as always, Agent Tomlinson.”

My lips quirked up slightly at the corners. I watched as Harry flipped up the hood of his sweatshirt and slipped silently out of my apartment.

I let out a deep breath I didn’t even know I’d been holding and relaxed into the couch.

“This is not good,” I whispered.


	9. Smoking is Bad for You, You Know

“Any news from the search parties?” Liam asked Zayn in a hushed voice. But I could hear them.

Zayn shook his head solemnly. “No. He’s a ghost, Li.”

Liam sighed. “I know.” He worried at his bottom lip and then said, “How are you?”

“How am _I_?” Zayn asked. “Well, despite having a serial killer on the run that also happens to be my best friend’s brother and the guy who really fucked up my _other_ friend’s life... I guess I’m doing okay.”

Liam gave him a reassuring smile. “That’s my boy.”

I couldn’t help but smirk at them. They were trying to keep their relationship a secret, but they weren’t doing a very good job. I kept seeing them sneaking off into the supply closet, most likely to make-out. That closet was entirely sound proof for absolutely no reason. Well, I guess there was _one_ reason.

“Earth to Louis.”

My head snapped up and I locked eyes with Maya. “Hey.”

She frowned. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for, like, five minutes.”

I pulled my feet down from their spot propped up on my desk and sat up straight. “Sorry. I was... thinking.”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Whatever. Um, I was telling the others that I think it’s time we tell Gemma.”

I frowned. “She’ll freak, Maya.”

“We don’t know that,” she snapped.

“Yes, we do,” I assured her. “If you were in her position, how would _you_ react if we told you that our number one suspect in a serial killer case if your mentally challenged brother that you locked up years ago?”

She pursed her lips. “Well, when you put it that way...”

“Let’s just tell her and go from there,” Niall cut in. “She has more information about him than any girlfriend or best friend can give us. She knows him. We _need_ to talk to her.”

I sighed. “Look, I know you’re right, but she’s already been through so much. Her dad died last year, her brother’s a psychopath, and now you want to tell her that that same brother might be a _murderer_?”

“It’s better she hears it from us than from when we finally put the son of a bitch away,” Maya argued. “I’d rather we tell her we’re after him before she sees him in handcuffs.”

I ran a hand through my hair, stood up, and grabbed my coat. “I need a break.” I threw my jacket on and stomped out of the building.

I ducked into the alleyway behind the building, instantly taking out a cigarette and lighting it. I brought the small stick to my lips and took a quick drag, exhaling the smoke through my mouth. I leaned back against the brick wall and sighed.

“Smoking is bad for you, you know.”

I scoffed. “Figured you’d like to watch me suffocate to death. That _is_ kind of your thing.” I turned to face Harry, who had the hood of his sweatshirt up.

“I _would_ love to see that, yes, but, unfortunately, you seem to be the only thing in the world that can bring me pleasure anymore.” He plucked the cigarette out of my hand, sucked on it, and blew the smoke right back into my face. I inhaled sharply, somewhat intentionally inhaling the smoke.

“You have to stop coming here,” I said. “Someone’s gonna see you one of these days.”

“Then what do you propose?” he asked in a soft voice. I’d been so focused on how hot he was, I hadn’t even realized that his face was slowly getting closer.

“That we get out of here,” I answered simply.

“And go where?” he asked.

“Depends on what you’re up for.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you saying?”

“Nothing. It’s just that...” I pressed myself closer to him, causing his back to hit the wall. I hooked a finger under the collar of his shirt and tugged it down a bit, revealing a tattoo that read: _17BLACK_. I nudged his jaw with my nose and said, “There’s quite a few things I’d like to do to you.”

**\- - -**

The second the door shut behind us, I threw Harry against it, feeling my jeans tighten at the moan he let out. He smirked. “So eager.”

I fisted my hands in his sweatshirt, pulled him towards me, and then slammed him against the door once more, harder this time. “Keep your dirty little mouth shut.”

With a mischievous grin, he said, “Yes, Daddy.”

I knew he was only teasing, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on. I pulled him forward and kissed him roughly. My hands moved on their own accord, trailing down his back until they reached his ass. I squeezed rather hard, using his gasp as an opportunity to shove my tongue into his mouth. He tried to fight me, but quickly let up when I squeezed his waist. I moved my hands down farther until they reached the backs of his thighs. I tugged upward, showing what I meant. Understanding, Harry jumped up and wrapped his legs around my waist and his arms around my neck.

Still kissing him, I held him tight and slowly walked him over to the bedroom. I kicked open the door with my foot and carried him over to the bed, which I then dropped him down on. The second his back hit the mattress, I moved down to his neck, sucking, biting, and kissing at the skin. His hands were roaming all over my back, pulling at my shirt. He was letting out soft moans that were doing _wonders_ to turn me on.

Panting, he said, “What are you gonna do? You gonna fuck me?”

I froze, my lips not even an inch away from his skin. I pulled back to look into his eyes, noting the fact that his cocky grin had disappeared. His pupils were dilated with lust, no doubt because he realized that he _did _, in fact, want me to fuck him.__

____

“Do you want me to?” I whispered.

____

He nodded frantically.

____

Taking this as my cue, I picked him up again and moved him up by the pillows. I crawled up so I was hovering over him and our heads were at the same level. “Hi.”

____

He smirked. “Hello.”

____

“I’m going to take my shirt off now,” I announced.

____

He nodded. “Yes, carry on.”

____

I sat back a bit for the sake of my balance and lowered my hands to the hem of my shirt. I dragged it up and over my head, smirking when I saw Harry watching me hungrily. “Like what you see?”

____

“Very much.” He trailed his hands along my biceps, then my chest, and then went down until he reached my belt. He tugged questioningly, silently asking for permission. When I nodded, he undid the buckle in record time, tossing it to the floor. He then started to pull at my pants, but when he couldn't get them down, I helped him out and did it for him. I kissed him once more and he used the opportunity to flip us around so he was straddling my hips. He sat up so he was basically sitting on me and made quick work of his sweatshirt. He reached for the hem of his shirt and grabbed it. But before he pulled it off, he froze with a hesitant look on his face.

____

I frowned. “Harry? You okay?”

____

“It’s just—” He pursed his lips. “There’s a lot of them, okay? You can’t... You can’t judge.”

____

I didn’t really know what he meant, but I nodded anyways.

____

With a shaky breath, he pulled off his shirt.

____

I stared at him in awe, my hands itching to touch him. He was covered in tattoos, from the word “hi” to an intricate butterfly. He was even more muscular than I thought he’d be, with a fine set of abs. But the craziest part was the scars. I knew he had them from the profile, but I never thought there’d be this many. They stretched all over his arms, chest, and stomach. I was sure they decorated his back too.

____

I reached up to touch one of the scars, but he grabbed my hand in his own before I could. I met his gaze with my own, silently telling him that I wasn’t going to hurt him. I just wanted to feel.

____

His face immediately softened when he saw the look in my eyes. With a sharp exhale, he placed my hand on his chest, over his heart and also over the largest scar I could see. I stretched from his right shoulder down to his left hip.

____

He let out a shaky breath when my fingertips touched his skin and he closed his eyes. He let go of my hand, letting me touch him. The scar tissue was soft and raised against his skin. I could almost feel where his stitches had been, based on the way it was raised a bit more in different places. He bit his lip when I moved my hand, tracing the scar all the way down to where it stopped. Not really knowing what I was doing, I held him tight in my arms and surged forward.

____

Harry gasped and his eyes flew open when I pressed my lips to the skin of his scar, tracing it lightly with my tongue. He moaned when I moved down to his nipple, sucking roughly. His hands instantly went in my hair and tugged. “L-Louis. Please...”

____

“Please what?” I asked against his skin. “Use your words, Harry.”

____

“I don’t know,” he gasped. “Something. _Anything_. Fuck, I need you.”

____

“Do you want me to fuck you?” I asked. “Do you want to ride me?”

____

“Oh, _fuck_ yes.” He placed his hands on my chest and shoved me down. He threw his pants down to the floor, leaving himself in only his boxers. He was about to pull them down, when—

____

I groaned when my phone started ringing. “One sec.” I reached over to my nightstand and grabbed my phone from off the table. It was Maya. “Fuck, it’s work.”

____

Harry groaned. “Can’t they wait for me to come?”

____

I chuckled softly. “Don’t think they really care.” I answered the call. “What’s up?”

____

_“Where the hell are you, Louis?!”_

____

I frowned. “What? I told you I was taking my break.”

____

_“That was thirty minutes ago! We’re working double time for this case, remember? We only get ten minute breaks.”_

____

I watched with a confused expression as Harry slowly crawled down my body. I mouthed the words, “What are you doing?” but he only smirked. I found out about five seconds later when he tore my boxers away and took me in his mouth. “Oh, _fuck _!”__

______ _ _

_“Louis? Everything okay?”_

______ _ _

“F-Fine,” I panted, placing a hand in Harry’s hair. “Everything’s fine.” That last “fine” came out as more of a moan when Harry dug his tongue into my slit.

______ _ _

_“Are you sure? Do you need me to call you back?”_

______ _ _

“No!” I said quickly. “No, it’s okay. I just”—I let out a huff when Harry took me all the way into his mouth until I could feel the back of his throat—“Fuck. Sorry, I stubbed my toe.”

______ _ _

_“Okay, well get your stubbed ass over here.”_

______ _ _

“I-I will.” I looked down and met Harry’s gaze. He was sucking lightly on the head of my cock, his hand gripping the base of it. My whole shaft was covered in his spit. He looked just sexy enough to send me over the edge. “I-I-I... I’m coming,” I said, half to Maya and half to Harry.

______ _ _

_“You better be.”_

______ _ _

She hung up just in time as I groaned loudly, fisting Harry’s hair impossibly tight. My back arched off the bed as I came down his throat, gripping my phone with all of the strength I could muster in my one hand. I watched as he licked me clean before raising himself up to my face, smirking.

______ _ _

I put my phone down and glared at him. “You little shit.” He grinned. “I should punish you for that.”

______ _ _

His smile faltered and his eyes became impossibly dark. He let out a soft breath. “Yeah? You’re gonna punish me?”

______ _ _

I flipped him over and pinned him to the bed with my weight. I smirked. “Yeah. I’m gonna punish you. Now flip over.”

______ _ _

He did as I said and flipped onto his stomach. He looked at me in confusion when I settled between his legs.

______ _ _

“Hands and knees,” I demanded. I slowly dragged down his boxers.

______ _ _

He obeyed me and glanced at me over his shoulder. “Louis, what the hell are you— oh, _fuck me_!”

______ _ _

I cut him off by dragging my tongue over his hole, laughing to myself when he buried his face in the pillows. His moan was muffled when I licked over his hole again. I pressed a kiss to it before shoving my tongue inside, satisfied when he moaned my name.

______ _ _

“Fuck, baby,” he panted. “You’re so fucking good at that.”

______ _ _

I pulled my mouth away and replaced my tongue with two fingers at once, making him swear loudly. Keeping my fingers inside of him, I moved up so my chest was pressed to his back and my lips were against his shoulder. I had been right. There were a lot more scars on his back.

______ _ _

“Don’t call me baby,” I growled. “What’s my name?”

______ _ _

“L-Louis,” he managed through a soft moan.

______ _ _

“No, it’s not.” I pushed a third finger in, making him groan. “What. Is. My. Name?”

______ _ _

He met my gaze, his brow furrowed in pleasure. “D-Daddy.”

______ _ _

I pressed my lips to the back of his neck. “Good boy.”

______ _ _

He let out a breathy moan, his hands gripping the pillows as if his life depended on it. I kept pumping my fingers in and out of him, each thrust eliciting a groan from him. After barely a minute, he said, “F-Fuck, Daddy. I-I’m gonna come.”

______ _ _

And with that I pulled my fingers out and rolled off the bed.

______ _ _

Harry turned on his side to glare at me. “What the hell was that?”

______ _ _

“Your punishment,” I said. “You don’t get to come.”

______ _ _

“Fuck you,” he growled. “I could just do it myself, you know.” He reached down to his impossibly hard cock.

______ _ _

“But you won’t.” I grabbed a few new pieces of clothing from the drawer.

______ _ _

“How do you know?” he asked.

______ _ _

I shut the drawer, gathering the clothes in my arms. I turned to him. “You’re a sexual sadist. The whole point of you doing what you do is because you can’t find pleasure in just jacking off. You need more than that. So no matter how hard you try, you won’t be able to come without me.”

______ _ _

He frowned. “Well, then maybe I’ll just go out and kill someone.”

______ _ _

“You could,” I said. “Or you could sit and wait for me to get home. And then maybe I’ll let you come.”

______ _ _

He groaned. “See, this is my I don’t fuck profilers.”

______ _ _

I smirked and marched into the bathroom. “I’ll be home by twenty-one hundred!”

______ _ _

“That’s five hours away!”

______ _ _

“Guess you better get comfortable!”

______ _ _


	10. Harry?

I adjusted my hair in the rear view mirror before stepping out of my car and marching up the shirt set of stairs to the building. My heart was pounding, although I don’t know why. It’s not like the team could figure out that I’d almost fucked a serial killer just by some bed head.

I opened the front door to the precinct and stepped inside. I ignored the glare I received from Maya and sat down at my desk.

“I called you twenty minutes ago,” she growled from her spot beside me.

“Sorry, _Mom_ ,” I said sarcastically. “I got a bit preoccupied.”

“It better not happen again,” she snapped.

I scoffed. “I don’t know what Liam’s told you, but you are _not_ my superior officer. You have no right to threaten me like that.”

She glanced at me, but said nothing.

**\- - -**

“Harry!” I called once I shut the door behind me. “I’m back!”

I frowned when there was no answer. Placing my keys on the kitchen counter, I started forward.

“Harry?” I called again, this time in a questioning tone. My heart stopped momentarily. What if he really _had_ gone out and killed another person?

And what if I’m the one that led him to do it?

“Harry?” I asked, panicked now.

“B-Bedroom,” came the breathless reply.

I didn’t think too much about it and threw open the door to the bedroom. Thanks to the sight in front of me, I was rock hard in about three seconds.

Harry was splayed out on the bed, still naked. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was an absolute mess. His lips were parted as he let out soft breaths. One of his hands was fisted in the sheets, while his other one had three fingers deep inside himself.

I froze in the doorway, watching him fuck himself on his fingers. I slowly stepped into the room, closing the door behind me. My mouth had gone dry and my pants had gotten incredibly tight. But who could blame me? He was so sexy.

Harry looked over at me, his hand that was clenching the blankets slowly loosening and then tightening again at random points in time. His face was contorted in what looked like pleasure and frustration.

“P-Please,” he begged pathetically. “I-I-I _need_ to come.”

I nodded and crossed the short distance over to him. I crawled onto the bed so I was hovering over him and kissed him softly—our lips barely touched. I met his gaze and slowly reached down to pull his hand away from himself. He nodded and took his fingers out, placing his hand on the pillow beside him. I replaced his fingers with my own, causing him to let out a soft gasp.

“F-Fuck,” he panted.

“Have you been fingering yourself this entire time?” I asked, pressing my lips to his neck.

“N-No,” he managed through a moan. “I took a shower and sat around for a bit. I-I ate the pizza that was the fridge.”

I growled low in my throat, but didn’t say anything. That was _my_ pizza. But he’d had enough punishment for one day. I wasn’t going to do anything more.

“And then when I couldn’t stand it anymore, I came into the bedroom,” he explained. “You came home about half an hour later.”

I nodded and kissed him again. He moaned straight into my mouth when I sped up the pace of my fingers and I swallowed the noise as if it was oxygen.

Suddenly, he cried out. “Ah, yes! Oh, _fuck_ yes, right there!” He gripped my shoulders, his fingers clawing at my shirt.

I angled my hand so I’d hit that spot every time, causing him to moan loudly.

“I-I’m gonna come,” he said in a breathy voice. “I’m so close.”

“Touch yourself,” I whispered.

He did as I said and reached down with one of his hands. He grabbed his own throbbing cock and started to stroke it at a fast pace. He came all over himself in less than thirty seconds.

I pulled my fingers out and looked down at him. He was totally out of it, his chest covered in his own come and his eyes closed. Every breath was soft and even, as if he were asleep. But he wasn’t. I knew he wasn’t. How, you ask?

Because psychopaths don’t sleep peacefully.

I bent down and dragged my tongue over his stomach, licking away some of the mess he’d made. I felt one of his hands in my hair. But he wasn’t pulling like he usually did. He was just stroking it. Weird.

I placed my forehead against his and closed my eyes. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

He chuckled softly and reached up to lick the tip of my nose. “Yes, Daddy, I have.”

I laughed myself and pecked him on the lips. “Good boy.” I rolled off the bed and tugged my shirt down to hide my erection from him. I didn’t want him to know how much of an effect he had on me.


	11. 7 Hours

I woke up the next morning to find the space next to me empty. I frowned. I could’ve sworn Harry had fallen asleep next to me last night.

Shrugging this off, I rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom. I did my usual morning routine, fixing up my hair and all that. I put on a simple black shirt and pair of black jeans, throwing a leather jacket on. And just like that, I was out the door.

**\- - -**

“What’s up with you?” Zayn asked. “You’ve been staring at that goddamned board all day.”

The board. The one tacked to the wall that was covered in pictures of the guy who fell asleep in my arms last night. Yeah. That board.

Now, I wasn’t about to tell them all that the reason I was staring at it was because I was terrified Harry had left to go do something bad.

Like kill another person.

And that’s exactly why I said, “We don’t have any more bodies, do we?”

“Not yet,” Maya sighed. “Thank god. I don’t think this town could handle another death.”

“I wouldn’t relax just yet,” Niall murmured before clicking on the large television screen in front of us and playing a video.

_“Tell the nice people watching what your name is, sweetheart.”_

I froze. I knew that voice all too well.

It was Harry.

On the screen was an image of a blonde girl that looked to be no older than eighteen. She was bound to a chair with duct tape over her mouth, tear stains trailing down her cheeks.

The camera—which was probably held by Harry—got closer to her face. Her eyes were full of fear as she studied the man behind the camera and with a small whimper, he ripped off the duct tape.

_“C’mon, honey,”_ Harry said with a soft chuckle. _“Tell the nice FBI agents watching what your name is.”_

She took a shaky breath before saying, _“Ch-Chloe. Chloe Donovan.”_

I stood up quickly. “Is this live?”

“Yeah,” Niall said. “Being broadcasted.”

“Get Gemma,” I demanded. “She needs to track this.”

“But Louis I thought you said you didn’t want her involved—”

“I know what I said,” I snapped, cutting Niall off. “But she’s the only one that can do what we need. Now get her on the line!”

_“Good girl,”_ Video Harry praised, stroking her cheek lightly. _“Now tell them what we practiced.”_

A small tear dribbled down her cheek. _“A-As you’ve probably figured out by now, the Angel of Death’s identity no longer needs to be kept a secret. His name is H-Harry Styles.”_ She gulped nervously. _“He has a pro-proposal for you. M-Me for his immunity.”_

Maya scoffed. “Is he serious? He’s killed over three hundred people and he wants us to ignore that just for one?”

Harry laughed once again. _“Perfect.”_

“Niall!” I called. “Where the hell is Gemma?”

“I-I-I don’t know,” he stammered. “She’s not answering her phone.”

I growled in frustration.

The camera suddenly turned, revealing Harry’s grinning face. His eyes were sparking with that same look he had every time he found his way to me. He was enjoying this much more than a sane person would be.

_“Well, agents, it seems as if you have a decision to make,”_ he said, licking his lips. _“I’m giving you seven hours. The girl or my immunity. This line will stay open for when you’re ready.”_

“Wait, wait, wait, no, no—!” But the screen went dark.

**\- - -**

I was pacing around the room, muttering softly to myself. There were a shit-ton of things wrong with both of the options we had been given, but we could only choose one. I needed to negotiate. We only had about four hours left.

“It’s ringing,” Maya mumbled as she pressed the button that turned the phone on. In no time at all, it was answered.

_“Who is this?”_ Harry’s voice asked from the other line.

“Special Agent Henry—” Maya started.

_“No,”_ Harry said, and I knew exactly where this was going. _“I will speak only to Agent Tomlinson or else I am hanging up.”_

Maya glanced at me before saying “Alright” and standing up from her seat. She gestured for me to sit down, so I did. Well, I did it hesitantly.

“This is Special Agent Tomlinson,” I said.

_“Oh, I forgot to mention,”_ he added. _“I would like to speak to him alone.”_

Maya scoffed. “Absolutely not—”

“Maya,” I cut in, not unkindly. “It’s fine. You guys can leave.”

Niall and Maya gave each other skeptical looks before marching out of the room, leaving me alone with a psychopath on the phone.

“Alright,” I said when the door shut behind them. “I’m alone.”

_“Perfect.”_ There was a bit of shuffling and then the faint sound of clinking, like metal. _“Now tell me, agent, what do you want?”_

“I want you to let that girl go,” I demanded.

He chuckled. _“You know that’s not what I meant. Try again.”_

I gulped nervously and shifted in my seat. “Now is not the time, Styles. C’mon, just let her go.” I lowered my voice to a whisper in case anybody was listening. “If you do, I might even fuck you tonight.”

_“That’s a tempting proposition,”_ Harry murmured. _“Unfortunately, I’d rather have you where there’s a chance of getting caught. Much sexier.”_

“So, what, you want me to get you off right here and now?” I scoffed.

_“Yes, that’s exactly what I want,”_ Harry said. _“I’m already hard just listening to your voice. Shouldn’t take long.”_

I huffed in annoyance. “Fine. I guess if we’re being honest, I’ve been thinking about you all day. I’ve been thinking about what I would do to you once I saw you tonight.”

_“And what would that be?”_ Harry asked, sounding a bit breathless.

“I’d start by sucking you off,” I answered simply. “Make you come so hard you saw stars.”

_“M-More,”_ Harry demanded.

“I’d finger you too,” I said, feeling my jeans slowly grow tighter. “Stretching you open and making you feel me.”

He let out a soft and breathy moan. _“So close. Just a little more.”_

“And then I’d fuck you hard enough that you can’t walk for a week,” I said, squeezing my thigh tightly. “You won’t even be able to kill, you’ll be in so much pain. But it will have been worth it because you’ll come harder than you ever have.”

He let out a loud groan as he came, making me smirk.

“Better?” I asked.

_“Much,”_ he panted.

“So you’ll let her go?” I asked hopefully.

There was a long pause. _“Yes. But only if you follow up on that fucking me offer.”_

I bit my lip. “I don’t see why that can’t be arranged.”

_“Under the bridge off of Route 42,”_ he explained. _“That’s where you’ll find her.”_ He hung up a second later, leaving me feeling very dirty.


	12. Three Weeks

Sitting in the driver’s seat of the black SUV and slamming down on the gas pedal, I swerved through the traffic, going way beyond the speed limit.

 _“Slow down, Louis!”_ Maya cried over the communicator in my ear. _“We already know where she is!”_

“I don’t trust this guy,” I growled back. “He could very well be lying.” I turned onto the road I was heading for, heading the sound of sirens behind me. Maya and Niall were only a few meters back.

I skidded to a stop just before the bridge, jumping out of the car even before it came to a full halt. I sprinted down to where the stone arch met the ground, finding exactly what I was looking for. But when I saw it, I grunted in frustration.

“Find her?” Maya asked.

“Oh, I found her, all right.” I backed away from the woman to allow Maya a better view. “I found her dead.”

She let out a soft breath at the sight of the dead body. “Oh, God.”

I let out a loud cry of anger and struck forward with my hand, making contact with the stone of the bridge. It made a loud sound as I felt practically every bone in my hand crack, but it didn’t hurt. I was too consumed by frustration and humility to be in _any_ pain.

Maya sighed in defeat and pulled out her phone. Her voice was soft, but I heard her. “Liam? Yeah, we found her. Uh, no. Louis’s, uh, we’ll talk about it later. Bye.”

**\- - -**

“Liam wants to see you in his office,” Niall whispered as he passed by my desk.

I froze with the teacup barely an inch from my lips and sighed. I placed it down on my desk and stood up, making my way towards the office.

I knocked on the door. “Liam? It’s Louis.”

“Come in!” he called.

So I pushed open the door and stepped into the room. I sat down when he told me to, wringing out my hands. “What’d you want to talk to me about?”

“You know the reason I assigned you this particular case, right?” Liam asked, putting his full attention on me.

I nodded slowly, looking down at my shoes. “You assigned me this case because of what happened.”

Liam nodded. “And how long has it been since that day?”

“Almost five years,” I muttered.

“I thought you were ready,” Liam said, making my head snap up. “I thought it’d been long enough to the point where you weren’t after him out of revenge anymore. I guess I was wrong.”

I chuckled nervously. “W-Wait, what are you saying?”

“I’ve come to notice that maybe this isn’t the case for you,” he said. “After your little outburst at the bridge, Maya and I both came to a decision.”

I scoffed. “So, what, you’re taking me off the case?”

Liam stayed silent.

I stood up. “Liam, you can’t be serious!”

“It’s for the best!” Liam cried, standing up as well. His face was contorted in anger. “You’re letting your personal vendetta get in the way! You look at a victim and don’t even flinch because you’re so focused on catching this son of a bitch!”

“For the best?!” I echoed. “So you’re taking me off the case because it’s better for the team?”

“No, I’m _suspending_ you because it’s better for the team!” he growled.

“You’re _suspending_ me?!” I shouted. “Are you insane?! I’m the best profiler you have—”

“Take a good look around, Louis!” Liam demanded. “We’re all worried about you! If you still want to have a job in three weeks, then you’ll do as I say and get your ass out of here!”

I clenched and unclenched my hands into fists, blood rushing in my ears. “Fine. Three goddamned weeks. And then I’m coming back. No longer.”

Liam nodded. “That’s fine with me. Just take time to cool down.”

I said nothing and stormed out of the room.


	13. Give Me a Reason

I slammed the door to my apartment shut, grunting loudly as I did so. I tore away my jacket and threw it to the ground, my chest rising and falling as I heaved in each breath. My anger was taking over and I needed to calm down.

“What’s up with you?”

My head snapped up at the sound of an all-too familiar voice, my eyes blaring with anger when I saw him. I moved forward with speed I didn’t know I had, slamming him against the wall he was leaning against.

“You lied!” I hissed. “She was dead when we got there!”

Harry let out a soft chuckle. “I told you where you’d find her, but not the state she’d be in. I never said you’d find her alive.”

I growled low in my throat and struck forward, placing a strong hand around his neck. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t turn you in.”

“Because you need me,” he said with a grin, his breath catching when I squeezed his neck. “If you turn me in, you won’t be able to get anything out of me. I’ll stay silent until the day I die, all because you didn’t have the balls to fuck me.”

I studied his face. He wasn’t lying. The son of a bitch was telling the truth.

I huffed in frustration. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

“Oh, please do,” Harry chuckled, a crazy look in his beautiful green eyes. “And make it slow. I want to feel _everything_.”

With a surge of adrenaline, I used my grip on his neck to pull him towards me and press a rough, sloppy kiss to his perfectly sculpted lips. He seemed to get the memo, because he grabbed the back of my head and pulled me even closer, if that was even possible.

I started to loosen my grip on his neck to get more comfortable, but he grabbed my hand before I could let go.

“No,” he snapped in a deep and husky voice that sent a shiver down my spine. “Keep it there. It turns me on.”

I felt my breath catch in my throat at this new piece of information that wasn’t actually that new. I knew he was kinky, but I didn’t know that he was kinky enough to want me to choke him while we were making out. Well, maybe I did know that.

With a smirk, I tightened my grasp once more, this time grabbing both his neck and his jaw. He let out a soft, deep chuckle that made my jeans become a hell of a lot tighter than they were.

“It turns you on too, doesn’t it?” he asked with that signature smug smirk of his. “You love to know how hot and bothered I get when you threaten me. Don’t you, Lou?”

When I said nothing, his smile only grew. “I knew it. You love to threaten me. You love to hurt me.”

I looked him over, suddenly realizing that our lips were barely a breath apart. Despite how smug I was feeling, I got even closer to him, dragging my bottom lip over his cheek. “Maybe I _do_ like hurting you. Maybe I _do_ like seeing you in pain. Is there a point to this?”

“My point”—Harry inhaled sharply when I squeezed slightly—“is that maybe we’re more alike than you want to admit.”

“Alike?” I chuckled in his ear. “No, you’ve got it all wrong, Styles. We’re not alike at all.” I turned his head roughly to the side to get better access to his neck. “We’re. The. Same.” On the word ‘same,’ I wrenched his head back and dragged my tongue up his neck.

He let out a breathy laugh. “Finally, someone who understands.”

I let go of his neck and placed my hand on his cheek, still making sure that his head was back against the wall. I pressed wet, slow kisses along his collarbone and neck, fully aware of the large bulge pressing against my thigh. He was hard, I was hard. I didn’t see the problem.

“Bed-Bedroom,” he managed through a moan, clawing frantically at my hair.

Without even so much as a nod, I let go of his neck and used that same hand to grab his wrist. I pulled him through the open doorway that led into the bedroom, shoving him down onto the mattress the second I could reach it. “Clothes,” I demanded. “All of it.”

He wasted no time in following my orders, peeling away his shirt and pants. While he did that, I picked slowly at the buttons of my own shirt, making sure to put on quite a show for Harry. I undid every fasten until it was just loose-hanging fabric. By then, he had stripped all the way down.

I stepped towards him, feeling his eyes on my every move. Placing one hand on his left shoulder, I used the other to trace one of the scars on his right hip lightly. As I spoke, I slid the hand that was on his shoulder to the nape of his neck. “Has anyone ever told you how fucking _sexy_ you are?” The second I finished my sentence, I threw him against the wall, gripping his waist tightly. I smirked at the growl he let out and placed my hands at the back of his head, my thumbs on his cheeks. I placed my lips barely an inch from his cheekbone and whispered, “I believe I have a promise to fulfill. Don’t you remember?” He nodded frantically. “Good.” I dropped to my knees in record time, grabbing him and shoving his whole length into my mouth. Harry gasped at the sudden change in atmosphere, letting out a breathy moan that sounded suspiciously like the word ‘fuck.’ I glanced up at him to see his head back against the wall, his eyes closed and his mouth open. He was letting out soft breaths.

I looked away from him to focus on the task at hand. I sucked lightly on the head of his already dripping cock, grinning when Harry groaned. I took him deeper—and deeper—and deeper until the patch of hair around the base of his shaft tickled my nose. I could feel him at the back of my throat, nearly causing me to gag. But I didn’t, because Harry sure as hell was enjoying it.

“O-Oh, my _God_!” he cried, fisting my hair in both of his large hands. His hips twitched slightly, as if he were trying to thrust up into my mouth. I don’t know if that’s what he was trying to do, but I pulled off and started stroking him at a swift pace.

I met his harsh green gaze with my own soft blue one. “Wanna fuck my mouth?”

He nodded slowly, so I grabbed his hands and placed them on the back of my head. I grabbed his hard cock in between my swollen lips, relaxing to allow him to do whatever the fuck he wanted to me. He took this as his cue, holding my hair in an impossibly tight grip and starting to thrust as a slow pace. That pace quickly got much faster, however, because in no time at all, my jaw was starting to ache, while he was a complete moaning mess. And when he gasped out a warning, I instantly pulled off of him and stood up.

“Dick,” Harry mumbled.

I frowned. “What did you call me?” When he didn’t answer—only looked down—I grabbed him by the neck once more and slammed his head against the wall. “Have you suddenly gone deaf, angel? I asked you a question. So answer it.”

“I-I-I called you a dick,” he stammered.

“Yes, you did,” I growled through gritted teeth, squeezing his neck to the point where he actually had to gasp for air. “How _dare_ you be so disrespectful, angel?”

“I-I-I...” he trailed off.

“You what?” I asked.

“I-I’m sorry, Daddy,” he gasped in a barely audible voice. “Fuck, I’ll be a good boy for you.”

I chuckled at how easily he became so submissive and whispered, “So desperate.” I flipped him around and dropped him onto the bed, tearing away my shirt as he laid back against the pillows. He watched me with lust-filled eyes as I kicked off my jeans, leaving myself in nothing but my tight boxers. With a smirk, I climbed onto the bed so I was hovering over him.

Harry looked up at me through his full, dark lashes, his kiss-swollen lips running against his perfect, white teeth. He adjusted himself on the bed, his hips rutting up not-so-subtly into me. “C’mon, Louis. Just fuck me already.”

“Calm down, angel,” I said with a chuckle, stroking the side of his face lightly with one hand. “We’re taking it slow.” I trailed a finger under his chin and tilted his head so he was looking up at me. I moved closer so our lips were practically touching. “Now flip over onto your stomach.”

He gulped thickly and did as I said, turning over so his back was to me. He started to raise himself onto his hands and knees, but I knocked him back down.

“No,” I hissed in his ear, pressing my chest to his back. “Stay. Down.”

Harry looked at me with his face buried in the pillow, nodding as best as he can. He looked so sexy in the way he was positioned. He was laying with his legs spread and his ass slightly raised up in the air, both of his hands fisting the two pillows beside the one his head was sitting on. He was practically _begging_ to be fucked. Well, he was.

I bit my lip as I slowly ran a hand down from his shoulders to the small of his back until I reached the swell of his ass. I squeezed it firmly, smirking at the gasp he let out.

“Hit me.”

I looked back at Harry to find him staring at me with a gaze that told me he really wanted it. He wanted me to hurt him.

So, I raised my hand and brought it right back down onto his ass with a loud smack. Harry let out the loudest moan I’d heard from him in all our time together. So I did it again. And again. And again.

“Oh, fuck, yes,” he panted, gripping the pillows tightly. “Mmm, fuck me, Lou. I can’t wait anymore. Please, I want you inside of me so fucking bad. I _need_ you inside of me. I need to feel you. I don’t care about prep. Just _fuck me_!”

I was taken aback by Harry’s sudden pleading, but I didn’t waste anymore time. I tore off my boxers and quickly slammed inside of him, both of us moaning at the feeling. Harry most likely at the pain, me at the feeling of his tight walls around me.

“F-F-Fuck,” Harry breathed, his eyes clenched shut and his body tense. “So... f-full.”

“God, you’re so tight, angel,” I groaned. “When was the last time you were fucked?”

“Years,” he whimpered. “I-I usually do it myself.” He was slowly starting to relax, his legs no longer flexing stiffly from the pain.

“You fuck yourself on your fingers?” At his nod, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to the area just behind his ear. “What do you think about? Huh? How do you get off when I’m not around?”

“I-I-I think about you,” he panted. “I always think about you. I think about sucking you off, about getting fucked by you. But it’s always you.” He let out a soft breath and finally revealed his warm green eyes to look at me. “I’m ready. Move.”

I frowned. “A-Are you sure? I mean, I don’t wanna—”

“Move,” he spat.

I nodded once before pulling almost all the way out, then thrusting back in. I repeated this slowly, not wanting to hurt him. I knew he liked quite a bit of pain, but there was fine line between pleasure and really _hurting_ him.

“Faster,” Harry demanded through a moan.

I obliged easily, thrusting faster than before. Harry was groaning and panting loudly, though each noise was muffled by the pillow his face was shoved into. He was clawing desperately at the bed sheets, his fingers clenching and unclenching into fists with each thrust.

“Hrmph,” he mumbled.

“Speak up, angel,” I snapped.

He looked back at me, his eyes dark with both anger and desire. “I said fuck me harder! What are you waiting for, Tomlinson? Don’t you want to make me fucking come?”

I set my face in irritation and grabbed him by the hair. I yanked his head back so he was looking up at the ceiling, causing him to let out a yelp. “Don’t fucking talk back to me, you crazy son of a bitch. I thought you were going to be a good boy.”

“I-I will,” he whimpered, although he didn’t sound sad. He sounded turned on. “Sorry, Daddy. I’ll be better.”

“Now that’s a good boy.” I started moving my hips faster and harder, but didn’t let go of his hair. I kept his head back and tugged every now and then, loving when he winced in pain. We both liked to see him hurt and it sure as hell was turning me on.

“Oh, fuck, Daddy,” he moaned. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come. You’re gonna make me come so hard.”

“Yeah?” I hissed in his ear. “You gonna come for me?”

He nodded as best as he could with his head being held by my grip on his hair.

“Who’s fucking stopping you?” I growled.

Harry came hard and fast, causing me to let out a moan when he clenched around me. I let go of his hair, letting him collapse back onto the bed. He was gasping softly for breath, his chest rising and falling slowly. I moved to pull out of him, but he grabbed my hand before I could.

“Come inside of me, Daddy,” he said in a voice softer than his hair.

I didn’t have to be told twice.

With a few hard, deep thrusts, I was letting go deep inside of him, moaning in his ear. I slipped out of him and collapsed onto the bed, letting out a soft breath. There was a bit of rustling and I turned my head to see Harry lying on his side, facing me.

He gave me a small smile. “That was fun.”

I laughed quietly. “Yeah, it was.”

He trailed his fingers along the ‘it is what it is’ tattoo on my chest, his short nails following every curl of the ink. “You wouldn’t happen to be a cuddler, would you?”

I laughed again, louder this time. “Come ‘ere, baby.” I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer to me. He threw one arm over my stomach and one leg over my hips. He laid his head on my chest, allowing me to hold him tight against me. I ran a hand through his hair, but pulled away when he winced. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” he said, sounding a bit groggy. His eyes were closed and he’d stopped breathing heavily. “It’s nice.”

I placed my hand back into his hair at his words, carding though the soft, silky strands slowly. Before I knew it, Harry’s breathing had gone even. I smiled to myself when I realized that he’d fallen asleep, laying in my arms. My smile only widened when I saw the small grin playing on his plump lips.

But that smile on my face quickly turned into a frown.

_Because psychopaths don’t sleep peacefully._


	14. Pillow Talk

_“Your time is up, Tomlinson. Have you made a decision?”_

_“N-No, I haven’t. I can’t decide.”_

_“Shame. I kind of liked you parents.”_

_A gunshot._

**\- - -**

“No!” I shot up to a sitting position, my breathing harsh and rapid. I clutched at my chest, trying to make sure it wasn’t real.

“Woah, woah, woah, baby, you all right?” Harry asked, sitting up with me, his face contorted in concern.

“I-I-I...” I took a deep breath and tried to keep going. “He-He k-killed th...”

“Louis, Louis! Look at me.” He grabbed my face in both of his hands and turned my head to look him in the eye. “It was just a dream. It wasn’t real. You’re safe. You’re safe here, with me.”

To my surprise, his warm green eyes were actually just that—warm. There was an adoring look in them that made my stomach to a weird thing that felt suspiciously like somersaulting.

I nodded and exhaled slowly. “You’re right. Sorry for waking you up.” I laid back down, looking up at him.

“It’s alright,” Harry said, laying down beside me. He propped his head up on his hand, running his other one over my chest. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

I shook my head and looked at him. “Not really.”

He nodded. “I get it. I, uh, I get nightmares too.”

Noticing the sad look in his eyes, I leaned forward and brushed my lips lightly against his. I then pressed our foreheads together, closing my eyes. “It’s okay, Hazza. You don’t have to talk about it.”

“Hazza?” he asked softly.

I chuckled. “It’s your new nickname.”

“Hazza,” he repeated, as if trying the word out. “I like it.”

I kissed him again, this time long and slow. There was no hungry need to have him at that moment. It was just a simple kiss. A kiss that was accompanied by smiles against lips and quiet giggles. A kiss that lit up a small part of me that hadn’t been accessed in years.

A kiss that brought forth the terrifying truth.

I pulled away quickly, my grin completely gone.

Harry frowned. “You all right, Lou?”

I put on a smile I hoped he wouldn’t see through and nodded. “Yeah. Sorry. I just...”

“Tired?” he guessed.

I chuckled anxiously. “Yes. Tired.” I rolled onto my back and pulled him close to me once more, feeling his familiar warmth against my side. He buried his nose into the crook of my neck, letting out a soft breath against my skin.

“Nluvoo,” he mumbled.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he sighed. “It was nothing. Goodnight, baby.”

“G’night.”

**\- - -**

“So who’s the guy?”

I looked up to see Niall sitting on the edge of my desk, munching on a candy bar. I frowned. “What?”

“Who’s the guy?” he repeated. “You know, the one you’ve been fucking for the past two months.”

My eyes widened. They knew?! They fucking knew?! They knew and they waited this long to tell me?!

“Ah, so there _is_ a guy,” Zayn smirked, studying my awe-stricken face. “I thought you profilers were supposed to be good at hiding your emotions. This one has the truth written all over his face.”

I shook my shock away and cleared my throat. “Th-There’s no guy. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“For one of the best profilers this unit has ever known, you’re not a great liar,” Niall said.

I almost laughed out loud. If only they knew the truth.

“So maybe there _is_ a guy,” I said. “How is it any of your business?”

“Because we’re friends, which automatically means we know exactly what’s going on in your life,” Zayn cut in.

“What he said,” Niall agreed through a mouthful of chocolate nougat.

I rolled my eyes and pulled out my phone when it started buzzing. I answered the call when I saw who it was. “Maya? What’s up?”

_“Srovia Park,”_ she said, voice urgent. _“Get your ass over here. Niall too.”_

I frowned. “Why?”

_“It’s Styles,”_ she said. _“We got him.”_


	15. Interrogation 2.0

I pushed through the crowd of staring FBI agents, moving them aside with brute force. The interrogation room was only a few feet away, and yet it felt like the entire Australian Outback.

When I finally broke through the crowd, I pushed into the room, shutting and locking the door behind me. I let out a breath. “Jesus. It’s like they might as well have pitchforks and torches.”

Niall chuckled, though his face was grim. “For good reason. Maya’s in there with him now.”

I looked to the large picture window that sat on the wall. Inside the other room was one table and two chairs, both occupied. One by Maya, and the other by a smirking Harry. A pair of handcuffs bound him to the table, although he looked incredibly relaxed. As if he hadn’t just been arrested for murder on all charges.

“Has she gotten anything yet?” I asked.

“We just brought him in, Louis,” Niall scoffed. “Hold your horses. Also, this guy is a total genius. He’s not gonna tell us anything.”

I smirked. “Oh, he’ll tell us.” I pushed through the door to the other room, bursting into the small space. Both Harry and Maya looked up at me when they did, Harry admiring me with a lust-filled look.

“Agent Tomlinson,” he greeted. “How lovely of you to join us.” He nodded to Maya’s chair. “Please, sit.”

Maya stood up and turned to me. She lowered her voice so Harry wouldn’t hear. “He seems to like you. I’m letting you take a shot. Try not to get murdered.” She handed me the case file and walked out, leaving me alone with Harry. Well, not entirely alone. I knew both she and Niall—and probably Liam—were standing on the other side of that one-sided mirror, listening to everything.

I pulled out the chair, grimacing at the screech that followed. I sat down and opened the file, pretending to be reading it. “Harold Edward Styles. 26 year old male, war vet. 23rd infantry, right?”

“Are you going to ask me any questions, or just keep spouting facts?” Harry grumbled.

I ignored him and continued. “You spent a year as a prisoner in Iraq, yes?” I looked up at him.

He gulped. “Y-Yes, I did.”

“And in this time, you were tortured and raped?” I noted the way he clenched his hands into fists.

“Is there a point to this?” he asked through gritted teeth.

I could tell he was getting angry. “There is no point. They’re just questions.”

“Then ask me different ones,” he spat. “I don’t see how questioning me about my trauma will help you solve this case.”

I leaned back in my chair and looked him in the eye. “You’re a smart guy. Why let yourself get captured?” I asked that question for the other listening, but with my eyes, I asked him ‘why did you leave me, only to get yourself caught?’

He gave me a surprised look, but replaced it quickly with a smirk. “I figured I should give you guys a break from the wild goose chase.” His mouth said one thing, but his eyes said another. His eyes said, ‘ _I_ needed a break.’

I nodded slowly and placed my elbows on the table, leaning forward on them. “Tell me, Harry. Why’d you kill all those people?”

He met my gaze with his own, telling me silently random things that made no sense. But out loud, he said, “You really think _I_ killed all those people?”

“You attacked your girlfriend,” I recalled. “A life-long friend. I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Something flashed in his wild green eyes. Something dangerous. “Ah.” His voice was full of malice. “Frankie. Lovely girl. Not exactly my type.”

I fought back the urge to laugh at him and, instead, studied him. Harry rolled his right shoulder, wincing slightly, as if he were in pain. I frowned at this and look closer. I realized that he hadn’t moved his right arm this entire time. It had just been sitting on the table since I walked in.

I struck forward as quickly as I could, grabbing his right hand. He let out a grunt of pain and tried to pull away, but he just couldn’t.

He glared at me. “What the hell are you doing, Louis?”

With gentle movements, I turned his hand over so it was palm up. He curled his fingers into a fist, but not before I caught sight of the deep cut over his open hand that was still bleeding. I spoke in a harsh whisper. “What the fuck were you doing to yourself, Haz?”

He pulled his hand away, clutching his upper arm. Through a cringe of pain, he managed, “Keep your mouth shut. Do you want to get yourself arrested too?”

I snatched my hand back, my eyes widening with realization. Something was wrong. Something about this whole situation just felt... off. Harry was a psychopath. He wasn’t capable of feeling _anything_. And yet, his eyes said the complete and total opposite.

They said that he cared.

“You didn’t do it,” I whispered in awe.

He frowned at me. “What did you say?”

I shot up from my seat and turned to the mirror. “He didn’t _fucking_ do it!”

**\- - -**

So turns out yelling ‘he didn’t do it’ about a serial killer that had literally confessed out loud to your superior—who had just brought you back from being suspended for three weeks—got you sent home with another week added onto your sentence. That is why I was sprawled out on the couch, chugging an old bottle of whiskey. Maya was updating me on what was going on with the case. Not surprisingly, the transport to the prison had been a huge blow and Harry had escaped.

Thank God.

I stood up at the sound of a knock at the door, crossing the room to open it. I did just that, revealing Harry, who tackled me the second I exposed myself. He shut the door and threw me against it, kissing me sloppily. I was sure he could taste the alcohol on my tongue, but he didn’t seem to care one bit.

“What is this?” I asked when he finally pulled away for some air.

“I need you,” he panted, eyes dark with want. “Right fucking now.”

I nodded at this and kissed him again, this time much hungrier. I moaned when he ground himself against me and he took the opportunity to shove his tongue into my mouth. He was taking control. I liked it.

He flipped me around so my back was to his chest and my front was pressed to the door. When I realized what he wanted, I smirked. “Are you gonna fuck me?”

He froze and it dawned on me that he himself hadn’t known what he was doing. After a few moments he nodded and whispered in my ear, “Yeah. I’m gonna fuck you.”

A shiver went down my spine, and I pressed my ass back into the growing bulge in his pants. I bit my lip and rolled my hips against him, satisfied when he exhaled softly with the smallest hint of a moan. He pressed himself even closer to me.

“So fuck me then,” I demanded in a breathy voice.

He smirked. “There’s one thing I want to do first.” He fell to his knees, yanking down both my pants and my boxers in one swift motion. Before I could get out a single word, he pressed his lips to my left cheek.

“Oh,” I mumbled.

 _“Oh,”_ I said again—this time with feeling—when I felt his tongue slide over my hole. I let out a breathy moan. “Oh, fuck. Just like that.” He spat and licked and sucked and in no time at all, I was feeling that familiar bubbling in my stomach. “H-H-Hazza. St-Stop. I’m gon-gonna c...”

With one last good squeeze of my ass with his large hands, he stood up and chuckled in my ear. “You taste so good.”

“Don’t get cocky— oh, fuck.” I cut myself off with a groan when he pushed two fingers at once deep inside of me, sending a mix of both pain and pleasure shooting up my spine. The pain vanished in the blink of an eye, leaving me gripping the door jamb tight enough to turn my knuckles white.

He pulled his fingers away with a grin. “You were saying?”

“Fuck you,” I snapped.

“No, fuck _you_.” I heard the sound of clicking metal, like a belt buckle. “At least, that’s what I’ll be doing.”

“Oh, yeah?” I raised an eyebrow and met his gaze over my shoulder. When I felt his hard member poke my bum, I bit my lip and whispered, “What are you waiting for? Fuck me, Daddy.”

His eyes lit up with lust. He wasted no time.

“Oh, _fuck_!” I cried, throwing my head back. “Fuck! Mmm, you’re so big, Daddy.” It felt like my ass was being ripped in half, but it barely hurt. In fact, it turned me on.

I turned to look at him, a grin spreading on my face while I chewed on my bottom lip. “So fucking big. Filling me all the way up. I feel so fucking full.”

He groaned right into my ear. “Shit, Lou. You’re so tight.”

“Move,” I demanded, even though I wasn’t nearly adjusted enough. “C’mon, I wanna feel you.”

He didn’t give it a second thought and started thrusting hard and deep. I moaned at the pain, but was in no time moaning at the pleasure. That burning feeling was gone soon enough until I was left with nothing but this strange sensation that was getting me closer and closer to my climax with each passing second. Harry seemed to be having just as much fun. He was letting out deep, guttural moans that only added to my stimulation.

“Faster. Please,” I begged in a voice that was practically a whine.

But he didn’t oblige. In fact, he went slower. “No,” he growled. “You’re going to fucking feel me.”

I let out a pathetic noise and clutched at the door jamb, my eyes clenched shut. They flew open, however, when Harry hit a bundle of nerves that almost sent me over the edge.

“Oh, shit!” I gasped. “Fuck, Daddy, right there! Oh, God, yes!”

He understood and hit that same spot again, still moving at a torturously slow pace. He hit it again and again until I was nearly coming.

“Daddy,” I moaned, not sure if I would be able to hold it in if he asked me to. “Daddy, I-I’m gonna come.”

He nodded and started thrusting faster and harder. When I reached down to touch myself, he slapped my hand away. “Untouched, baby. You hear me?”

I nodded and let him keep fucking me, knowing we were both close. And with a few more deep thrusts, we were both coming hard and fast, him deep inside of me, me all over the door he was fucking me against. Were it not for his strong arms around me, I was sure my legs would have given out beneath me.

We were both panting heavily, completely drained. Neither one of us moved. For the moment, he was just holding me. And it was nice.

Finally, he said, “We should probably take a shower.”

I nodded in agreement, but was too weak to say anything more than, “Yeah.”


	16. Move In?

I walked into the bathroom, hearing the click of the door as Harry shut it behind us. I tore away my shirt, keeping my eyes on him as he did the same. I turned to the shower and started the water, setting it to the perfect temperature.

He exaggerated a bow and said, “After you, my liege.”

I rolled my eyes (which he snickered at) and stepped into the shower, immediately feeling the warm water as it trailed down my body. My back was to the sliding door that was both the entrance and exit, but I heard as Harry came in behind me. And I felt it when he pressed his front to my back, wrapping his arms around my waist.

I tilted my head up to face the water that was pouring down on me, sighing in content when Harry pressed a kiss to the back of my neck.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured in my ear.

I smiled at this and said, “You’re not too bad yourself.”

He chuckled softly. “I don’t think you understand, Lou. You’re _beautiful_. Sometimes I lie awake at night, watching you sleep. Not in a creepy way, but because I just can’t take my eyes off of you.”

I scoffed. “That’s still sounds creepy, Haz.”

“Yeah, I realized it as I said it,” he mumbled against my skin.

I giggled and spun around to face him, wrapping my arms around his neck. Then I did something I never thought I’d do. I raised myself onto my tip-toes so I could be the same height as him and kissed him long and slow. He held me flush against him with his strong arms, neither one of us trying to get the kiss to be more. We were just... kissing. And it was incredibly nice.

I pulled away and lowered myself back down onto the balls of my feet, running a hand through his wet mop of a head of hair.

“Louis,” he whispered, his eyes almost sad. “I... I...”

I frowned. “You...”

He cleared his throat and tried again. “I, uh, I was wondering if maybe I could stay with you. You know, just for a little while until I get a real place to hide. The last place your friends would think to look is in the apartment of a federal agent.”

I bit my lip. Harry had a point. The others would _never_ look here. And that is exactly why I said, “Alright. You can stay.”

His face instantly lit up. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I said. “My clothes’ll fit you. My bed is big enough.”

He pressed his forehead to mine walked me over to the wall, both of us giggling. He gathered me against it, my head leaning back on the tile.

“You’re perfect, now, aren’t you?” Harry asked in a soft voice.

“I mean, I don’t like to toot my own horn, but...” I laughed.

“And for that, you should get a reward.” He started kissing down my chest.

I frowned. “A reward? What...?” I realized what he meant when he went down on his knees, his mouth hovering inches from my twitching cock. “Oh.”

“Can I?” he asked, which made me frown. I always gave him consent, but never actually voiced it out loud. It was more of a silent agreement.

I nodded swiftly and he was happy to obey, licking a stripe up the underside of my shaft. When he made it to the top, he sucked on the head of my cock, digging his tongue into my slit. He then took me in his mouth, his head bobbing up and down at a hard but slow pace.

I moaned loudly and stroked his hair. “So good, Hazza. So, so good.” I looked down and met his gaze. Something in his eyes made me stay there, mesmerized by that beautiful green I saw in my dreams. He was undeniably pretty and I just couldn’t look away.

He pulled off of me with a lewd pop and started stroking me swiftly. “I love watching you come undone just from my mouth.”

“T-To be fair,” I stammered, “your mouth can do in-incredible things. Now, do me a fucking favor and t-touch yourself.”

He smirked and did as I said, reaching down and jerking himself off quickly. He went back down on me, sucking obscenely. Every touch had me one step closer to falling off the edge and when he deep throated me, I couldn’t hold it in.

“H-Harry,” I whimpered.

He pulled off once more, but kept at it with his hand. “Come on, baby. Come all over my face.”

Just watching him jack me and himself off, mouth open in waiting, was enough for me to come hard enough I saw stars. I had my eyes closed, but based on the grunts and moans he let out, I was sure he came to.

I opened my eyes when he stood up, the water washing away the white droplets on his handsome face. He held his come-covered hand up to the shower head to wash it off, but I grabbed his wrist before the water could touch it. I shoved three of his fingers into my mouth, moaning seductively at the taste of his come. He was watching my every move, his eyes glued to my mouth. I licked it all away, dropping his hand to his side when I was finished. I then grabbed his head with both of my hands and kissed him hard, forcing him to taste himself.

When I pulled away, he smirked and said, “Such a naughty boy.”

**\- - -**

I woke up to the sound of whimpers, making me frown. I turned on my side to find Harry curled up away from me, his brow furrowed in what looked to be like pain. He was clawing at the bed sheets, muttering softly under his breath. “N-No. Don’t. I didn’t... I didn’t steal it. No! Please, don’t hurt me.” Tears were flowing from his eyes.

 _Nightmare,_ I realized with a jolt. I grabbed his shoulder and shook him lightly. “Harry, baby, wake up.” When he didn’t even flinch, I shook him harder and raised my voice. “Harry! Harry, wake up! Come on, it’s not real!” His eyes flew open at that and he struck out with his hand, narrowly missing my jaw. “Harry, Harry! It’s me! It’s Louis!”

He sat up straight and looked at me, his face softening. “Louis?”

I nodded. “It’s okay, Haz.”

He threw his arms around my neck and buried his face into my chest, his entire body trembling. I held him tight as he sobbed into my shoulder, rubbing his back.

“You’re okay, baby,” I whispered to him. “I’m here. It’s alright, it was just a dream.” I stroked his head softly and kissed his forehead. “You’re safe.”

I wanted to say more, but at the same time, I liked how we were, just him laying in my arms. He cried for probably a little over an hour until I heard his breathing go even. With a smile, I realized he had fallen asleep.

I slowly laid back, Harry’s head still on my chest. He was practically laying on top of me, but I didn’t move him, afraid I’d wake him up. I could feel his heartbeat against my stomach, beating in time with my own. I couldn’t help but smile.

I looked down at him, noticing small things I’d never seen before. I noticed the way his lips parted slightly, revealing his perfect teeth. I noticed the way his fingers twitched every now and then, as if he were trying to play the piano. And I noticed the way he whispered my name under his breath, his voice soft enough that I almost didn’t hear it.

Almost.

And in a voice barely audible, I heard him speak the words I’d been dreading since the beginning. The words that I thought only I would ever say.

“I love you.”


	17. The Pizza Guy

“Hey, Lou?”

I looked up at Harry. “What’s up, babe?”

“What did you mean?” he asked simply.

I frowned. “Excuse me?”

“In the interrogation room,” he explained. “You said ‘he didn’t do it.’ What did you mean?”

I froze. Right. There was that small detail.

I scoffed. “What does it sound like? I don’t think you did it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really? Even after I confessed to you? You seriously don’t think I killed all those people?”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”

“Why would you think that?” he asked.

I sighed. I knew there was no way I was getting out of this. So, I told him the truth. “In the interrogation room. Something was wrong. A smart guy would never let himself get caught, even because he just couldn’t handle running anymore. He’d find away to hide. And then I saw your hand. That’s not a self-inflicted wound. Someone did that to you.”

He bit his lip and looked down at his hands, almost absent-mindedly clenching and unclenching them into fists. “Wow. You really are the best profiler in your unit.”

“Wanna...” I grasped desperately for the right words. “Wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head frantically and shut his eyes. “No. No, no, no, no.” He placed his hands over his ears. “I can’t... I-I _can’t_ —”

“Hey, hey, hey.” I grabbed his hands and gently pulled them away from his head. “What’s going on with you? What’s wrong, Haz?”

He shook his head again and stood up. “No, _no_.” He clamps his hands over his ears again and stumbles away from the table. “The... The voices. I can’t— the _voices_!”

I shot to my feet and ran over to him, trying to grab him. But he pulled away and marched into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door. I rammed a fist against the door. “Harry! Harry, let me in! Come on, baby, let me help you!”

“No!” he cries. “No, you can’t!”

There’s a knock at the door. Fuck. The pizza I ordered.

I groaned loudly and crossed the room to the front door, throwing it open and revealing a young man carrying a cardboard box.

“Hi, I have your pizza—” he started.

I cut him off by grabbing the pizza box. I felt around in my pants for my wallet, growling softly when I realized it wasn’t there. I stormed over to the kitchen table, placed the pizza on it, and grabbed my wallet.

That’s when I heard the scream.

I spun around to see Harry standing over the pizza guy, a bloody knife in his hand. The boy was convulsing on the floor, clawing helplessly at his neck, which was pouring blood all over the floor.

I dropped my wallet. “Jesus fucking Christ!” I ran over to the guy, dropping to my knees. “Harry, what the hell did you do?!” I placed my hands over the large slice in his neck, trying to stop the bleeding. But I wasn’t a goddamned med student. I had no idea what the hell I was doing.

I looked up at Harry. “Don’t just fucking stand there! Help me!”

But he didn’t seem to hear me. He just dropped the knife and stumbled backwards, clutching at his hair. “Oh, God.” He placed a hand over his mouth and walked backwards into the wall, sliding down until he hit the floor. He hugged his knees to his chest, rocking himself slowly. His whole body seemed to be trembling.

“Fuck,” I said. My hands were drenching in this kid’s blood. He was grasping at my hands, to no avail. When he stopped moving, my panic spiked. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. C’mon, kid, don’t die on me.” But I knew it was too late. I knew there was nothing I could do.

Harry killed an innocent man, and I watched it happen. If I wasn’t already guaranteed a 5 year sentence for fraternizing with a serial killer, I sure as hell was going to get a good 20 for being an accomplice.

Shit.


	18. Another Suspect

I dried my hands off with the only red towel I owned after vigorously washing the blood away and turned around. I’d gotten rid of the body and cleaned up the blood, but Harry still had yet to move. He was still sitting against the wall, his face hidden by his knees.

I started towards him, moving slowly as not to frighten him. I crouched down in front of him and kept my voice soft. “Harry?” When he didn’t respond, I tried, “Hazza?”

He stayed silent, the only sound coming from his shaky breathing.

“Harry, it’s me,” I whispered. “It’s Louis.” I reached forward to touch him, placing a gentle hand on his knee. “What’s happening to you, baby?”

“They’re back,” he whispered. “The voices are back.”

I frowned. “Voices? What voices?”

He let out a sob. “They won’t go away. They won’t. They won’t.”

My phone started ringing, so I stood up and said, “One second, Haz.” I answered it. “Listen, Niall, now’s not really a good time—”

_“We need you at the station. Right now. It’s urgent.”_

I grunted softly in annoyance. “Fine. Give me fifteen minutes.” I hung up quickly and turned to Harry. “I’ll be back later. Stay here.”

**\- - -**

I approached an unnaturally sad-looking Niall. “Okay. I’m here. What’s so important that you had to pull me out of suspension?”

He looked up at me, inhaling shakily. “I’m sorry, Louis.”

I frowned. “Sorry? What are you sorry for?” I suddenly felt two strong hands on my arms, pulling them behind my back. I looked behind me to see Liam holding me in place. “Liam? What the hell is this?” I winced at the feeling of cold metal against my wrists.

“Louis Tomlinson, you are under arrest for the murder of Theodore Johnson,” Liam said. “You have the right to remain silent—”

“I know my goddamned rights!” I snapped, grunting when he pulled me towards what I assumed was the interrogation room. “Wait, you’re serious?! Liam, I didn’t kill anybody! You’ve got the wrong guy!”

**\- - -**

“For the last fucking time, I didn’t kill anybody!” I shouted to Liam, Maya, and Niall, who were all looking down at me in anger.

“Theodore Johnson,” Maya said. “19 years old. Was found dead one mile from your apartment in a dumpster.”

“I don’t even know who that is,” I said.

Liam slammed his hand down on the table in front of me. When he pulled it away, it revealed a picture of none other than the pizza guy that Harry murdered less than two hours ago. I made sure not to show any recognition of him, but I was terrified I let something slip. “Again, I don’t know who that is.”

“You’re prints were all over the body!” Liam cried. “We have a witness placing you at the dumping site! We have endless evidence against you! So stop denying it!”

“I’ll take the goddamned polygraph for fuck’s sake!” I yelled, slamming my fist down on the table. “But I didn’t kill that kid!”

“Polygraph?” Niall asked. “Really?”

“Yes,” I spat. “Really.”

Niall glanced at the other two, who both nodded.

Silent agreement.

Niall sighed and said, “Alright. Polygraph it is.”

**\- - -**

“What is your name?”

“Louis William Tomlinson.”

“What color are your eyes?”

“Blue.”

“Did you know Theodore Johnson?”

“He delivered pizza once, but no, I didn’t know him.”

“Did you _kill_ Theodore Johnson?”

“No.”

“Do you know who did?”

Hesitation. “Yes.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Is this person someone you’re close to?”

“Yes.”

“How close?”

A scoff. “Explain to me how this is relevant.”

“It’s just routine, Louis. How close are you to Mr. Johnson’s killer?”

More hesitation. “Close, I guess.”

“Thank you, agent. We’ll have your results soon.”


	19. Cell Buddies

Niall forced me down into the chair, clamping my handcuffs to the desk. I glared at him as he stood up straight, but he didn’t give me so much as a glance. Instead, he walked over to where Liam was standing.

“He passed,” Niall grumbled in a soft voice that wasn’t soft enough. “He passed his polygraph.”

Liam sighed. “Of course he did. We’ll just have to find some other kind of evidence—”

“Director Payne!” an agent called that I still had yet to be acquainted with. She was new. “Something’s happened.”

“What is it?” Liam asked.

The woman approached him, glanced at me, lowered her voice to an audible whisper, and said, “It’s Harry. He turned himself in.”

As if on cue, two large agents came in, both holding a smirking Harry in iron-like grips. They shoved him into an empty cell, slamming a locking the door. When they moved away, Harry looked straight at me.

I pulled lightly on my cuffs, as if I were trying to get to him. Which was weird, seeing as I would never be that obvious.

“Sorry, Tomlinson,” I heard Liam say. “Guess you get the maniac for a cell buddy.”

My eyes widened and I conjured those acting lessons I took years ago. “What?! No, no, no, you can’t do that to me.” But he just undid my handcuffs and clamped them behind my back. He pulled me up from the chair and started pushing me towards the cell. “Wait, Liam, come on, man! I thought we were friends! You can’t put me in here with a murderer!” Again, he stayed silent and pushed me forward. He unlocked the cell and shoved me into it. At least he had the decency to uncuff me beforehand.

“Liam, you son of a bitch!” I called, going to the bars. “He’ll kill me and you know it!” Liam didn’t even flinch.

“Who knew you were such an actor?” Harry whispered, standing beside me. “Even I was convinced for a moment.”

I scoffed softly. “C’mon, baby, you know I’d never leave you.”

“There’s my knight in shining armor,” he joked.

“Introduce yourself to me,” I said quickly when I saw Maya and Niall looking over at us. “Handshake or something. Make it look creepy.”

So Harry turned to me, stuck out his hand, and raised his voice to a usual speaking volume. “Harry Edward Styles, at your service.”

I looked over at him, glanced at his hand, and tentatively shook it. I cleared my throat. “Um, I’m Louis.”

“I know who you are, Special Agent Tomlinson,” he chuckled. “We’ve talked before, you know.”

I let go of his hand, but didn’t turn away from him. “Oh, I know.”

He walked over to the far wall and leaned against it, sliding down until he hit the floor. He laid his legs down flat and sighed. “Sit with me, Louis.”

I shook my head. “N-No, thanks.”

He raised an eyebrow at me and sighed. “Alright. Your loss.”

I glanced over at Niall and Maya to make sure they weren’t looking. When I realized they weren’t, I walked over to Harry, dropped to my knees in front of him, and grabbed his hand. “Hazza, what the hell happened to you?”

He looked down and pulled his hand away. He hugged his knees to his chest and wouldn’t meet my gaze. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Haz, baby, let me help you,” I whispered. “I can’t do that if you don’t tell me.”

He glanced up at me and then said, “I get these, erm, these... episodes. They’re what got me a life sentence in a mental hospital. During them, I-I-I...” His voice broke, so he tried again. “I can hear them.”

“Hear what?” I asked gently.

“The voices,” he whimpered, tucking his head down. “From the torture. They’re in my head, whispering and shouting. They say the same things they did back then. And they don’t go away until they decide they want to.”

I moved and sat beside him, making sure to leave some room between us so no one would get suspicious. The door was to the right of us, so no one would see if I did what I was about to do. I grabbed his left hand and interlaced our fingers. At first, he did nothing. He just let me hold his slack hand. But after a few moments, I felt him squeeze my hand in reassurance, holding me in his tight grasp.

“Thank you for telling me,” I said quietly.

He nodded. “It, uh, it felt good to finally get that off my chest.”

Again, I made sure no one was looking before lifting his hand to my lips and pressing a kiss to it. With confidence I didn’t know I had, in a voice that was barely audible, I said, “I love you, Haz.”

He picked his head up and looked over at me, a frown etched on his perfectly chiseled face. “What did you say?”

I finally put his hand down, but didn’t let go of him. “Nothing. It’s not important.” We sat in silence for a few moments, until I said, “Can you get us out of here?”

Harry frowned again. “What?”

“Can you get us out of here?” I repeated. “Out of the station. Away from here.”

His eyes widened. “You want to escape?” At my nod, he said, “Lou, if we run, you’re a fugitive. You’re looking at a hell of a lot of years in jail.”

I gave him a small smile. “I know. But I can’t stay here. We need to go. We need to get out of here. So can you get us out?”

He nodded hesitantly. “Yeah, I can. But... you’re sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” I said. “I’m sure.”

He pulled out a small square from his back pocket, clicked a button that turned on a small green light, and spoke into it. “G. We’re running. Get us out. Make it quick.” He pocketed the object once more and turned to me. “I say we’ve got about an hour.”

“What was that?” I asked. “That thing?”

“It’s how I communicate with G,” he answered simply.

“Right,” I said slowly. “And who’s G?”

He smirked. “You’ll find out soon enough.”


	20. “G”

It had been over an hour. Harry had said one hour and it’d been a hell of a lot longer than that.

“Thought you said you were getting us out of here,” I sighed as the guards switched for the third time that night and the officers on the day shift left.

“G’s coming,” Harry said, yawning loudly. “Give it thirty minutes.”

“That’s what you said three hours ago,” I groaned, fighting the urge to drop my head onto his shoulder.

“Sorry, baby,” he whispered, turning to look at me. “Just a little bit longer.”

As if on cue, the guards started murmuring amongst themselves and a few even left. In no time at all, we were alone.

“I’m... pretty sure that’s our cue,” I said.

“Yep.” Harry and I shot to our feet and ran to the bars, trying to see what was going on.

Suddenly, a figure in a blue jumpsuit and a ski mask ran into the room, somehow looking incredibly annoyed.

“G,” Harry says with a grin.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” G snapped.

 _A woman,_ I realized.

“Hurry up,” he said. “Before the guards come back.”

G picked at the lock. “I’m hurrying, jackass.” There door unlocked with a soft _click_ , and she threw open the cell door. “C’mon, you two.”

I hurried out of the cell, Harry following close behind.

“This way,” I said. “Back entrance.” I led them out of the station and around to the front, where a large van was waiting.

G slid open the back door. “Get in.”

While Harry and I did that, she got into the driver’s seat and sped away from the station.

Panting, I looked up at Harry. We made eye contact and both broke into laughter.

“Oh, that was fun,” Harry said with a laugh, relaxing back against the wall of the van.

“Oh, yeah.” I crawled over to him and slung one leg over to his other side so I was straddling his lap. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight, sliding one hand down to my ass and squeezing roughly. I let out a sharp moan and put my hands at the back of his head. I crashed our lips together, reveling in the feeling of his soft lips against mine.

“Don’t you _dare_ fuck in the back of this van,” G snapped.

Harry pulled away. “Fuck off, Gemma.”

I frowned. “Wait.” I turned to look at the driver. “Gemma?”

She tore off her mask and grinned at me through the rear view mirror. “Hey, Chief. How’s the sex? Is he good?”

I scoffed. “Hold on. You’ve been working with your brother this whole time?”

“For a profiler, you really aren’t that good at catching your own agents in _really_ obvious lies,” she said.

I laughed loudly. “Oh, man. How did I not see it?”

“I’m just that good,” Gemma said with a grin.

I turned back to Harry, who was smirking. I kissed him again, rougher this time. He peppered kisses along my jaw until he reached my neck, which he then sucked a large bruise into.

I gasped out a moan and tugged on his hair. “Fuck, Hazza.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” Gemma asked.

I flipped her off and went right back to letting Harry kiss me. He tugged down the collar of my shirt and licked along my collarbone, making me shudder. I pressed a kiss to his cheek and placed my hands on his shoulders. I shoved him back against the wall of the van and held him there.

“What is with you today?” Harry asked.

I shrugged. “No idea.” I ran my hands down his chest and slid them under his shirt, running them along the scars covering his torso. I kept our gazes locked as I whispered, “So beautiful.”

He inhaled shakily and pressed his forehead to mine. “Louis, I lo—”

“We’re here!” Gemma announced as the vehicle came to an abrupt stop.

I looked up at her. “Where exactly is ‘here’?”

“An abandoned factory,” Harry explained. “No one’s been there for years. It’s... well, it’s my hideout. My home.”

*******

The three of us stepped into the old factory. It was broken and worn down, although Harry had cleaned up quite a bit. He had himself a computer set up, what looked to be a functional kitchen, and a bed.

“Not bad,” I remarked as I glanced around.

“The others have probably already figured out you guys are gone,” Gemma said. “I better get back to my place so I can pick up the call I’m about to get. You two have the place to yourselves. Try not to ruin it.” She left a moment later.

“Well, you heard the woman,” Harry said. “We have the place to ourselves.”

“Yes, we do.” I placed my hands on Harry’s chest and pushed him towards the bed. “We’re _totally_ alone.” When the backs of his knees hit the bed, I pushed him down onto the mattress and crawled into his lap. “Take off your shirt.”

He took about two seconds to complete the task, tearing off his shirt and revealing his many tattoos and scars. I traced the large one with gentle fingertips and repeated what I’d said earlier. “So beautiful.”

He kissed me gently, moving his hands down to the hem of my shirt. I deepened the kiss by forcing my tongue into his mouth and he pulled my shirt up. Lifting my arms, I let him peel the piece of fabric off of me.

“Pants,” I panted into his mouth, tugging on his belt buckle.

Understanding, Harry pulled off his belt and I did him the favor of raising myself off of him so he could kick off his pants. He took off my belt next and I pulled away my pants in one quick motion. I literally ripped away his boxers, practically tearing them in half.

“God, you’re so sexy when you’re desperate for me,” he moaned.

“Shut up and kiss me.” I pressed our lips together once more as I undressed completely. I shoved him down so he was laying down on the bed and I was sitting on top of him. I crawled up a bit higher so his throbbing cock was positioned just below my hole and bit my lip.

Harry watched me with a lust-filled gaze as I got myself situated and placed his hands on my thighs. He gave me a small nod in consent, which is exactly what prompted me to sink down onto him.

“Oh, _fuck_!” I cried out as pain and pleasure ripped through me. I kept my hands on his chest for balance as I sat there, slowly—too slowly—adjusting to his size. “Fuck, Daddy, you’re so big. I can feel you deep inside of me. So fucking big.”

“You’re so pretty, sitting on my cock like that,” Harry gasped, obviously trying not to moan. “God, I forgot how tight you are.”

I let out a shuddering breath and waited another few moments. Finally, I raised myself off of him and slammed back down until I bottomed out. I repeated this motion again and again until I was moving at a steady pace and both of us were moaning loudly.

“H-Hazza,” I stammered. “Feels so fucking good.”

“You’re so eager for my cock,” he observed. “You’re such a little slut for me, baby. Come on. Say it. Tell me how much of a slut you are.”

“I’m such a slut for you,” I gasped, quickening my pace. “Such a slut for your cock.”

“Good boy,” Harry praised, squeezing my thighs tightly. “I love watching you ride me. You’re so pretty, baby.” He ran his hands all over my chest, touching everything.

I moaned loudly when I felt him hit that spot that always made me see stars. “Oh, fuck, Daddy! Fuck, that’s it.” I positioned myself so he’d hit that spot with every thrust, feeling myself get closer and closer with every movement. “Haz...”

“Are you gonna come?” Harry asked, understanding what I meant. At my nod, he suddenly grabbed me by my shoulders and pulled me down so I was laying flush against his chest. He started thrusting into me at a brutally fast pace with stamina I didn’t even know he had.

“Ah, fuck!” I shouted. “Oh, fuck, yes, come on, make me come, Daddy. Yes, just like that.” With a few more deep pounds, we were both coming incredibly hard.

Harry’s arms fell limp beside us, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he panted heavily. My head was buried in his shoulder and I was breathing hard against his neck. I could tell I was gonna be really sore in the morning, but for the moment, I just wanted to lay in his arms.

“Damn,” Harry said through deep breaths. “You totally drained me.”

I chuckled weakly and inhaled deeply. “I’m just _that_ good.”

He laughed as well and stroked my hair. Pressing a kiss to my cheek, he said, “We should sleep.”

“Good thing we’re laying on a bed,” I murmured, closing my eyes.

“Yeah,” Harry whispered. “Good thing.”


	21. Touch Me

Dressed in nothing more than a thin robe and a pair of tight boxers, I opened one of the cabinets in Harry’s kitchen to find about ten bottles of whiskey.

“My God,” I muttered. “That’s a shit-ton of booze.”

“It’s been a few lonely nights,” Harry sighed.

I grabbed one of the bottles and tore off the top, kicking the cabinet closed with my foot. “Then let’s party, baby.” I took a swig from the bottle, shuddering at the burn that went down my throat. “Fuck, that’s strong!”

He laughed loudly at my reaction. “Come ‘ere, Lou.”

I did as he said, walking over to the bed with the bottle in my hand. I climbed into his lap and took another sip, holding the alcohol in my mouth as I pressed my lips to his. I forced him to taste it, moaning softly against his lips. When I pulled away, he wiped away the drink that had dribbled down his chin and licked his lips.

I smirked and pecked him quickly on the lips, turning around so I was laying in between his legs with my back pressed to his chest. I took another sip, my head already becoming cloudy from the alcohol.

I sighed deeply and picked up one of his hands, which was laying beside us. I interlaced our fingers and played with his rings, dropping my head back into his shoulder.

“You okay?” he whispered in my ear, wrapping his other arm around me.

I smiled. “I’m perfect.”

He held me tight against him, and for a second, I felt safe. I felt... almost... lov—

But then the alcohol kicked in and I realized that I was horny as fuck.

I placed the bottle on the beside table and licked my lips. I let go of Harry’s hand, so he moved it to join the other one around my waist. I let out a soft breath and ran a hand down my body until I reached my boxers. I then started to palm myself through the thin material.

Harry chuckled softly. “What are you doing, baby?”

I bit my lip and smirked. “C’mon, Daddy. Don’t you want to touch me?”

“Not now,” he murmured against my neck. “Right now, I just wanna hold you.”

I whined pathetically. “But, Daddy, I want you so bad. Don’t you want me?” I grabbed his hand and placed it over my clothed cock, keeping my hand on top of his.

“Louis, I—” Harry started.

“Please,” I whispered, rolling my hips up into his hand. “I _need_ you.”

With a soft chuckle, he started moving his hand at a not-so-slow pace.

I let out a satisfied sigh and grinned. “Fuck, yes. Yes, God, make me come.”

He placed his other hand on my thigh and squeezed roughly. He hit my hand away and threw his own down into my underwear, grabbing me in his strong grip.

I moaned loudly and grabbed his bicep, feeling as his muscles flexed beneath my grasp as he jerked me off at a quick pace. “Daddy...”

“What’s gotten into you today?” he asked with his lips pressed to my ear. “You’re so desperate.”

“I-I-I don’t know,” I panted. “I just want you so bad.”

He lifted his hand off of my leg and placed it in my hair, tugging my head back to hiss in my ear. “You’re such a greedy little slut.”

I laughed again, even though my scalp was searing from the pain. “I’m such a slut for you.”

“Yes, you are,” he growled, giving my cock a squeeze that made my back arch off of him. “And whose slut are you?”

I looked up at him, knowing _exactly_ what he was asking. “Daddy’s. I’m Daddy’s slut.”

He kissed the side of my head and let go of my hair. “Good boy.” He kissed along my neck, twisting his wrist slightly and speeding up his pace.

“Fuck,” I gasped. “God, I’m close.”

“That’s it, baby,” he urged. “Come for me, Louis.”

I came right into his hand, groaning loudly. Thank God we were alone in an abandoned building, or else we for sure would’ve woken up the neighbors.

I chuckled. “Hmm, you’re good at that.”

“And you’re _drunk_ ,” he said with a giggle.

“I need a shower,” I murmured.

“There’s a bathroom around the corner,” he whispered. “Be quick. We both need sleep.”

I reached up and kissed his jaw. “I know. Be right back.”

*******

I walked back into the room to find Harry passed out on the bed, the blanket pulled up to his chest. I smiled at how adorable he looked—all curled up like that—and started towards him.

I crawled onto the bed and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him flush against me. I held him tight in my arms, pressing a kiss to his bare back.

I felt as he grabbed the hand that was holding him in his own and interlocked our fingers, just like I’d done earlier. He pulled my arm up a bit further to hold him tighter and whispered, “You took too long.”

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Go back to sleep.”

“But now I’m awake.” He rolled around so he was facing me, dropping our interlocked hands to his side. His face was unreadable. “Are you okay? You’ve been acting a bit weird.”

I gave him a puzzled look. “I’m fine. What makes you think I’m not?” I let go of his hand and pulled my own through his thick hair.

“Nothing,” he said, as if suddenly changing his mind. Chuckling softly, he added, “I guess I should add ‘paranoia’ to the list of shit that comes with being a psychopath.”

I frowned at the sad look in his eyes and cupped the side of his face. “Hey, hey, hey, look at me, baby. Stop with the... negativity. Look on the bright side. You have me, and no angry FBI agents chasing after us. You’re gonna be fine.”

He sniffled softly, and I caught sight of the glimmer of tears in his eyes. “But what if I’m not? What if... What if there’s really something wrong with me?”

I pulled him closer to me and pressed my forehead to his. I wiped away the single tear that had fallen. “There is _nothing_ wrong with you. You’re perfect, Hazza. And I—” I pursed my lips and started again. “And I think that you’re absolutely amazing.”

He smiled sadly and buried his face in my chest. I wrapped my arms around him—and he did the same—just as I felt his body start to tremble. “Louis, I—”

“Shh,” I soothed, stroked his hair. “Sleep, Haz. Just sleep.”


	22. Truth

“Louis.”

I groaned softly to let Harry know I’d heard him.

“Louis, wake up.”

“Mmph,” I grumbled.

I heard him let out a sigh, and I suddenly felt strong hands on my ass, squeezing roughly.

“Haz!” I yelped, opening my eyes and glaring at him. “What the hell?”

“Sorry,” he said, kissing my cheek. “I needed you up and you were being stubborn.” He rolled off the bed and stood up, stretching out his sore muscles.

I watched him with hungry eyes as he bent over to grab his shirt off the floor, clearing my throat softly. “So what’d you want to talk about?”

No longer bare-chested, Harry climbed back onto the bed, folding his legs in and interlocking his hands in his lap. He sighed softly. “We need to talk about what’s been going on with you.”

I frowned and sat up, making sure to face him. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been acting so weird, Lou,” he said, meeting my gaze with eyes full of concern. “First there’s this whole thing about you thinking I didn’t kill all those people, and then you ran with me away from _prison_. You’re a _fugitive_ , Louis. And you _chose_ to be—”

I scoffed. “Hold on. _That’s_ what this is about? Because I _helped_ you?”

“No, that’s not— ugh!” He jumped to his feet, his face angry. “Just tell me what’s going on with you!”

“Fine!” I hopped off the bed as well. “You want to know the truth? You want to know why I threw my whole life away for you? You want to know why I risked a decade in jail just so I could see you every day?” 

“Yes!” he cried. “That’s all I want!”

The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could even register what I was saying. “Because I love you, Harry!” I felt the tears in my eyes. “Okay?! I’m in love with you!”

He froze, his face blank. He stayed silent, staring at me with an unreadable expression.

I finally realized what I’d said and put a hand over my mouth. “Shit. Haz, I didn’t mean it, I was just—”

He walked towards me with fire in his eyes. When he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, I swallowed thickly and met his gaze. He was angry. That was obvious enough.

Suddenly, his face softened and a small smile spread across his face. Using his grip on my shirt, he pulled him towards me and kissed me gently. I was _not_ expecting this reaction from him, so I didn’t move to touch him. All I could do was revel in the feeling of his lips against mine.

When he pulled away, he was still smiling. He used both hands to cup my cheeks and press my forehead to his.

“I love you, too,” he whispered.

I grabbed his forearms and shut my eyes, trying to process. “You do?”

“I do,” he confirmed.

“Promise?” I asked.

He chuckled softly. “Promise.”

I smiled wide and moved his arms to the back of my neck. I put my own around his neck as well and pulled him close. Without any hesitation of any kind, I kissed him. And he kissed me right back. And it was a _really_ nice kiss.

But then he moved down to my neck and I realized that I wanted him.

I moaned softly when he nipped at my ear and placed a hand in his hair. “Haz... Haz, I need you.”

He gripped the backs of my thighs and pulled me up so my legs were wrapped around his waist. He walked me over to the bed and dropped me down onto it so he was hovering over me. He kissed me again before reaching behind him for the collar of his shirt. He dragged the fabric up and over his head, discarding it to the floor.

I traced his sparrow tattoos, and then his scars. I looked up into his eyes, which were full of an adoring look.

He stroked some of the hair out of my eyes, his lips quirking slightly up at the corners. “You’re so gorgeous, Lou.”

I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed him back so he was sitting up on his heels. I sat up as well, putting barely an inch between the two of us. I fought back the urge to touch him and instead pulled off my shirt. I grabbed him by putting my arms around him, pulling him down on top of me once more.

Harry placed a hand on my chest while pressing wet and sloppy kisses to my mouth, kneading the muscles of my chest in his strong touch. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“I want...” I searched for the words. “I want you inside of me. I want to feel you.”

He nodded swiftly and moved his hands down to my pants, pulling them down quickly. He then moved to his own, doing the same.

I trailed my hands down his chest until I reached the waistband of his boxers, tugging lightly. At his nod, I pulled them away and grabbed his big, hard cock, stroking slowly.

He closed his eyes and let out a soft breath, letting himself feel it for a moment. But once that moment is over, he gently pulls my hand away and takes off my own pants. He kissed me again before reaching down and quickly inserting a finger into me.

I hummed out a moan and shut my eyes, enjoying the slight burn. At my demand, he pushed in a second one. And then a third.

“I’m ready,” I panted once I felt stretched enough. “I need you.”

Harry nodded once more and pulled his fingers out. Positioning himself just at my entrance, he slowly pushed in.

I let out a loud gasp and gripped his shoulders as tightly as I could, digging my nails into his skin. If he even felt it, he didn’t show any signs of pain.

“Hmm, fuck,” I moaned. “I feel so full.” I surged up and kissed him again, exhaling right into his mouth when I felt him start to move. He began slow, not wanting to hurt me.

But I wanted to hurt.

“F-F-Faster,” I commanded in a breathy voice.

He obliged, thrusting faster. He pressed kisses along my collarbone and neck, while I clawed desperately at his back.

“Haz...” I moaned.

“Me first,” he whispered, keeping his rhythm as he spoke. “Tell me exactly why you love me. Everything. I want to know.”

I locked our gazes as I nodded. With a shuddering exhale, I did as he said. “I love you because you’re so unpredictable—everyday with you is crazy and weird and totally unexpected.”

He started moving faster.

“I love you because you were willing to risk it all just to meet me,” I said through gasps of pleasure. “You gave it your all, just for me, and I’ve been obsessed with you ever since.”

He started fucking be harder to the point where the headboard of the bed started banging against the wall.

“I love you because— oh, fuck!” I cried out suddenly when he hit that goddamned spot, making me shudder. I powered through the pleasure, feeling tears fall down my cheeks. Not from pain, or anything, but from how happy I suddenly was, just being here with him. “I-I... I love you because every time I kiss you, I feel safe. Every time I kiss you, I just... I _know_ that everything will be alright.” I stroked his cheek and smiled. “You got that?”

He grinned right back and nodded. “I got that.”

I let out another loud moan when he hit that spot again and held onto his shoulders. Feeling tears pouring down my cheeks, I whispered. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Never,” he said. “Not in a million years.” He kissed my nose softly. “I love you, Louis.”

And with that I came, my moan muffled by my lips against his. When I pulled away, I was panting softly. I grabbed his biceps and said, “Come inside of me.”

He wasted no time and after a good three deep, hard thrusts, he was grunting loudly with his head buried in my shoulder.

He pulled out and collapsed beside me, breathing hard. His eyes were closed and his head was turned to face me.

I smiled to myself and and tucked a bit of hair behind his ear. He let out a soft snicker and opened his eyes.

“Have I mentioned that I love you?” I asked quietly, biting my lip.

He grinned. “Yes, you have.”

I laughed softly and leaned forward, kissing him gently. “Goodnight, Haz.”

He tucked his head into my chest and grabbed both my hands, holding them tightly against us both. “G’night, Lou.”


	23. Found You

I felt warm. There were strong arms around me that made everything that much safer. I was extremely comfortable, wherever I was.

It was then that I opened my eyes to find a tattooed forearm thrown over me. Only one man in the whole world had those exact tattoos. There’s also one man in the entire world who I loved enough to recognize them.

“Morning, Hazza,” I whispered.

He shifted a bit, tightening his hold on me. “G’morning, baby.” His voice was gruff from sleep, and also incredibly attractive.

I smiled to myself and held his hand in mine while I rolled around to face him. “Did you sleep alright?”

He kept his eyes closed, but smirked. “Better than I have in a long time.”

I pressed a kiss to his forehead and threw a leg over him, holding him tight. “Good.”

We laid there for another hour or so. I watched as Harry fell back asleep, but I couldn’t bring myself to do the same. I tried—and was really close—but got interrupted—

“Rise and shine, lovebirds!” Gemma called, storming into the room.

Harry groaned loudly. “Five more minutes, G.”

“C’mon, you two, you can’t hide in here forever,” she said.

“You’d rather us go out in the world and get caught?” I asked, sliding a hand down Harry’s arm and interlocking our fingers.

“No,” Gemma said. “I’d rather you find a better place to hide. Or get out of the state. I was at the office yesterday. Liam and the others are getting closer to this place.”

I sighed loudly. “I don’t have any clothes.”

“That’s why I went shopping.”

I grunted loudly when I felt a large object crash onto the bed right between Harry and me. I told Gemma to fuck off and kicked the bag away, wrapping my arms around Harry and holding him as close as I could possibly get him. “Not yet.”

“No, she’s right,” Harry sighed. “We need to move.”

I exhaled slowly and let my eyes flutter open to meet his gaze. I stroked his hair softly and kissed his cheek. “Alright. I’m up.”

*******

“So where are we headed?” I asked, collapsing onto the age-worn couch right beside Harry.

“Don’t know yet,” he replied. “Gemma said she’d find someplace new for us.”

I leaned my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes. “As long as I get to stay with you, I’m good.”

He chuckled softly and put his arm around my shoulders. “So cheesy.”

I giggled. “Only for you, Haz.” I took his hand in mine like I always did and held it tight.

I felt him lean his head against mine. “That’s right. ‘Cause you’re mine.”

“I love you,” I said quietly, kissing his shoulder.

“I love you, too,” he said.

“I loved you first,” I murmured.

I felt his chest rumbled beneath me as he laughed. “Even when we’re confessing our love to one another, you’re _still_ turning it into a competition.”

I picked my head up off his shoulder and smirked. “What can I say? I _love_ a good competition.” I kissed him. It was neither gentle or intense. It was just... a kiss.

Harry deepened it on his own, lifting one hand to the back of my head and putting the other on my thigh. He squeezed my leg in his strong grip, making me gasp.

“Haz...” I moaned when he kissed down my next. “Fuck.”

He moved his hand up my thigh, making me shudder as he got closer and closer to the ever growing bulge in my pants. I let out a deep groan when he finally reached it, pressing his hand to my crotch and palming me slowly. I hummed in pleasure as he sucked a bruise into the skin just behind my ear, causing my hips to involuntarily rut up into his hand.

Suddenly, a loud buzzing noise sounded through the air, making the jump.

“What the fuck was that?” I asked, my chest rising and falling swiftly.

Harry laughed loudly in my ear at my reaction. “That’s the doorbell.”

“There’s a fucking doorbell on this thing?” I asked.

He chuckled again. “It’s Gemma. Can you go get it?”

I rolled my eyes. “Lazy son of a bitch.”

“And yet, you’re still willing to fuck me,” he remarked.

I laughed softly and kissed him once more before standing up. I marched over to the large, factory door, placing a hand on the bar that opened it. With a soft grunt, I pushed it open.

I was instantly grabbed in strong arms, a hand over my mouth to muffle any sounds I let out. I tried to pull away, but whoever was holding me didn’t dare let go.

“Found you,” a voice hissed in my ear. I recognized it no problem.

_Liam._

I looked around to see too many police and agent cars to count, surrounding the building. Officers and agents were standing facing the door, guns drawn.

That included Maya and Niall.

I hissed softly when Liam clamped handcuffs onto my wrists. That hiss quickly stopped when I felt him press something to my head. Something that felt suspiciously like a gun.

“I’m going to take my hand away, alright?” he asked. “And you’re going to call that psycho out here. Make any move to warn him and I shoot. Got it?”

I nodded as best as I could, exhaling slowly when he pulled his hand away. At first I stayed silent, clenching my eyes shut when I heard the gun cock.

“Call for him, Agent Tomlinson,” Liam demanded.

I opened my eyes, inhaling shakily. I raised my voice. “Hazza, come out here! I need you!”

At first, nothing happened. The open doorway stayed empty. But then... Then I saw the familiar silhouette of his body.

I felt my heart stop at the sound of gunshots. “Harry!”

Liam held me tight and started pushing me towards one of the cars. “He’s dead, Louis. Get over it.”

“No!” I cried, trying to shake him off. “No, _no_! He... He can’t be.”

“Let it go!” he spat. “The son of a bitch can’t brainwash you anymore. You’re safe now, don’t you get that?”

I stopped struggling for a moment. Wait. They think he brainwashed me? They think he made me do all this?

_So they don’t know we’re together. Oh, this is good._

Deciding it would probably be better to pretend I was still fucked up in the head, I again tried to get away from Liam’s tight grasp. “No, please! I love him! Bring him back!”

Liam sighed. “You’ll be back to normal in a few days, Lou. Stop stressing, agent.”


	24. He Lives in Daydreams With Me

_I screamed at the sound of gunshots, somehow managing to break free from Liam’s grasp. I surged forward through the crowd of police officers, shoving a few to the ground. I ran up to Harry’s limp body, crouching to the ground in front of him._

_“Harry, Harry, Harry,” I said, pressing a hand to his chest. “Harry, baby, look at me.”_

_His eyes fluttered open and he grabbed my bicep in a strong hand. Blood was pooling at the corners of his mouth. “Louis.”_

_I lifted my hand off of his chest to find it scarlet red. My breath caught in my throat and I quickly tore off my sweatshirt, bunching it up and using it to put pressure on the multiple gunshot wounds. “Stay awake, Haz. Keep your eyes on me. You’re gonna be just fine.”_

_“L-Louis...” He coughed softly. “Leave me.”_

_“No.” I felt the tears in my eyes. “Never. I’m not leaving you.”_

_“If you go now, they still might not suspect you of too much,” he said, trying his hardest to smile. “You might have a chance to get away.”_

_His face was paling. “You know that’s not gonna happen, Hazza.”_

_“I’m not going anywhere, Lou,” he whispered. “You and I both know that. Run while you still can.”_

_“I can’t—”_

_“Go,” he demanded._

_It took a shit-ton of sheer will not to cry. I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you, Haz.”_

_“I love you, too,” he said._

_“I loved you first,” I whispered._

_When I felt him exhale against my mouth, I sat up._

_His eyes were closed._

_“Harry,” I whispered. When he didn’t respond, I tried again._ “Harry.”

_When he didn’t so much as flinch, I knew the truth._

_“Harry!”_

*******

My eyes shot open and I let out a loud gasp, pain shooting through my head. I clutched the side of it, groaning softly.

“Sorry, Louis,” a voice said. “We had to sedate you to get you here. Took a rather strong dose.”

I looked around to see Zayn leaning against the doorway, dressed in his usual doctor coat. He was polishing his glasses with the material of said coat, watching me with careful eyes.

I kept my mouth shut as I lowered my hand back down to my side, glancing at all the tubes connected to me.

“So?” Zayn asked, putting his glasses back on. “How are you feeling?”

I stayed silent once more.

“Not in a talking mood, huh?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

I looked away from him and down at a certain something on my hand that they hadn’t bothered to remove. Something no one knew about.

“Alrighty then,” Zayn said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Try not to go AWOL again.”

I heard his footsteps, but didn’t turn to watch him leave. Instead, I kept my eyes on my hand, examining the ring sitting on it. I still remember how it got it.

**(Cue the Flashback)**

_“Okay, what is it?” I asked, climbing into Harry’s lap, who was sitting on my couch._

_“What’s what?” he asked with a frown._

_“You’ve been acting weird for_ months _,” I said. “Something’s up.”_

_“Nothing’s up—”_

_“Tell me the truth, Hazza,” I demanded, wrapping my arms around his neck._

_He sighed. “Fine. I was going to wait a little bit longer, but I guess I’ll show you now.” He reached down into his pocket, pulling out a small box. He opened it, revealing a simple silver band with a different language engraved on the metal. I didn’t know what it said, but I did know what that ring was._

_I froze. “Is that...?”_

_“An engagement ring?” he asked. “Yes, it is. Now, I believe there is only one question to ask: Louis Tomlinson, will you marry me?”_

_I scoffed. “No, I’m not gonna marry you.”_

_He frowned. “What? Why not?”_

_“I barely know anything about you,” I said. “I’m not gonna_ marry _you.”_

_He clutched comically at his chest. “You wound me.”_

_I chuckled softly. “Maybe in the future, but not now. Maybe on a day when you’re not running and hiding from the government.”_

_He sighed. “So I guess there’s no use for this then, huh?” He moved to put the ring away, but I snatched the box from him before he could._

_“Hey, that doesn’t mean I can’t keep it.” I opened the box and took out the band, placing it on my right ring finger. “What does it say?”_

_“It’s French,” he explained. “Tu me manques.”_

_“What does that mean?” I asked._

_He leaned forward, pressing his lips softly to mine. When he pulled away, he whispered, “You are missing from me.”_

**(End Flashback)**

I clenched my hand into a fist, watching the metal from the ring glimmer in the hospital lights. I read the inscription, my heart constricting painfully when I remembered that I was the only one that made it out of there.

“You are missing from me,” I murmured softly.

“Good, you’re awake.”

My head snapped up to see Liam storm into the room, his face contorted in anger. I stayed silent as he approached me.

“Where is he?!” he shouted. “How did he survive?! You know him better than anyone! Why isn’t he dead on a sidewalk right now?!”

My lips parted slightly in surprise as I tried to process what he’d said. “What? He’s... He’s alive?”

“Don’t play dumb with me!” he spat. “I know you’re just as crazy as he is. Now, tell me where he is!”

“Liam James Payne!” Zayn marched into the room, also incredibly angry. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Questioning someone who knows the son of a bitch we’re trying to track down!” Liam snapped.

“He needs sleep and medical attention!” Zayn cried. “You screaming at him isn’t helping that! You want him to be compliant?! Then let him fucking heal!” He grabbed Liam by the shoulders and literally threw him out of the room, shutting the door loudly behind the both of them.

My heart was slamming against my rib cage. Every beat was like the goddamn doorbell in the factory, screaming inside my head.

“He’s alive,” I mumbled in astonishment. “Harry’s alive.”


	25. Gemma Styles

“I just want to talk to him, Liam. He’s my friend. I’m Harry’s sister. Maybe the resemblance will get through to him.”

“Fine. You’ve got five minutes.”

“Thank you.”

I didn’t even bother to open my eyes, even at the sound of footsteps. I didn’t bother because I knew exactly who it was.

“Louis,” Gemma said. “Louis, it’s me.”

“Where is he?” I whispered.

“What?” she asked.

“I know you know where he is,” I said. “So tell me.”

“He’s dead, Lou—”

“No, he’s not.” I finally opened my eyes. “Liam lied to you. He’s alive. He’s out there. And I need you to find him.”

“I-I can’t do that—”

“Can’t or won’t?” I asked softly, meeting her gaze. When she stayed silent, I added, “Find him. Please. For me.” I sniffled softly, hoping she wouldn’t notice the tears in my eyes. “And tell me he’s alright.”

She nodded slowly. “I’m gonna get you out of here, Louis. Just wait.”

The next time Gemma came to visit was the next day. Liam—who didn’t trust me one bit—set up two, armed agents outside of my hospital room, who switched out every few hours. They were even there in the middle of the night, standing as still and silent as the guards in front of Buckingham Palace. It was honestly quite scary.

But Gemma came anyways, just ‘cause she was like that. She was willing to negotiate with big guys with guns just to get to me.

“That was quick,” I murmured.

“He’s not far,” she said, keeping her voice soft as not to alert the agents outside. “He’s about a block from the factory.”

“And?” I asked. “Is he okay?”

“He’s... breathing,” she said, face unreadable. “We have a friend that used to be in the Navy. He’s got medical training. He’s helping him out.”

“But he’s... okay, right?” I asked, somehow managing to keep my voice steady.

Gemma sighed and her expression fell slightly. “Louis, you’ve gotta understand that... it’s bad. Alright? They missed the kill shot, but Harry had to drag himself a long distance without any help. He’s had major blood loss. I tried to talk to him, but he couldn’t even open his eyes. Yes, he’s alive—technically speaking—but he’s so incredibly weak. It’s gonna take time before he’s back to normal.”

I nodded. “Thanks, G. I owe you one.”

“You owe me _nothing_ ,” she said. “Just get some sleep, and _then_ we’ll talk.”

Gemma came again about a week later. By then, I’d been moved to a cell. It wasn’t a permanent one—just a small block in the county jail—but it was a cell nonetheless. And it wasn’t comfortable.

I approached the bars at the same time that she did, wrapping my hands around the iron. “What is it?”

“He’s getting better,” she said. “But I think I’ll hold off your jail break until he can at least move on his own. Right now, Luke and I have to get him to sit up just so he can even eat.”

I tried not to linger on her words for too long, not wanting to actually process the fact that Harry might be dying. “Alright. But don’t wait too long. They’re going to send me upstate any day now. It’s gonna be a hell of a lot harder to break me out when I’m surrounded by ‘round-the-clock security.”

She gave me a small nod. “I’ll come back in a week or so. We’ll talk then.”

But she didn’t come back in a week or so. Or the week after that. In fact, she didn’t come back for two months. And by the time she did... It was too late.

“Rise and shine, inmate. It’s visiting day.”


	26. Inmate 45897

I sat down on the chair in front of the large glass pane. I set my face in anger, maintaining eye contact as we both reached for the phones sitting beside us. I lifted it to my ear, fighting the urge to scream.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

Gemma sighed. “I know you’re disappointed, but—”

“I waited for you,” I said with unnerving calm. “But you never came.”

“Louis, I—”

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” I asked. “You waited too long to get me and he died. And I didn’t get to say goodbye. That’s the only possible reason you could be here.”

Her nostrils flared slightly as she inhaled. “Stop. Just for once in your life, stop. And let me explain.”

So I stayed silent.

“No, he’s not dead,” she said. “He’s actually _walking_. He’s going to be fine. God knows only _your_ brain would ever assume the worst. He’s awake and he wants you back.”

I scoffed. “Too bad that’s never going to happen.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Look around, Gem,” I demanded. “We’re in the most heavily guarded prison on the East Coast. The fact that they’re even letting us talk is beyond me. If I even sleep in, I’m sentenced to a week in the Hole. You’re never getting me out of here through a jail break.”

She smirked. “It’s a good thing I went to law school then, isn’t it?”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

She put the phone down and reached into her bag, pulling out a thick folder. She picked up the phone as she opened the folder and pressed it to the glass.

My face stayed blank as I read it.

_Louis William Tomlinson. Court Trial Verdict: Guilty of All Charges. Sentenced to 10 Years in Prison at Storm Bay Detention Center. Visiting Hours: 13:00-13:45 Every Monday. Set For Interrogation by Federal Agent Once a Week. Stripped of Badge and Title._

I sighed. “Wow. Great. Thanks. Now I can feel worse about this whole situation.”

Gemma rolled her eyes. “That’s not the point, Louis.”

“Then please, enlighten me,” I drawled.

“I know people,” she said. “I can set you up with the best lawyers in the country.”

I froze. “Wait. What are you saying?”

“I can get you out of here,” she explained. “The legal way.”

“Times up, inmate.”

I glanced up at the guard. “Just, like, thirty seconds.”

“No,” he growled. “Get up.”

I gave Gemma an eye roll, who snickered softly. I then put the phone back in its spot, standing up out of my seat. I held my hands out to the guard, who—rather roughly—clamped down a pair of handcuffs on my wrists. I sighed as he shoved me forward, forcing me back down the hall to my cell.

*******

“Inmate 45897.”

I groaned and rolled my neck, cracking it. “C’mon, Li. Thought we were friends.”

“I’m not friends with murderers,” he said, taking his usual seat across from me at the table.

I sighed. “You know I didn’t kill him. Just because I fucked a psychopath doesn’t mean I _am_ one.”

Liam ignored this, interlocking his fingers in front of him on the table. “Let’s make a deal.”

I bit my lip. “I do love myself a good deal.”

“Tell me where Styles is and I’ll think about finding a way to reduce your sentence,” he said.

I leaned back in my chair, propping my chained feet up on the table. I made a face that looked like I was thinking, but then said, “Hmm. Yeah, no thanks. I’d rather spend a decade in this hell hole.”

He huffed out a breath. “What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t you understand? He doesn’t love you. He only used you to get someone on the inside. You mean as much to him as the hotels he hops from every day.”

I put my feet down and leaned forward, placing my elbows on the table. I got as close to him as my chains would allow, which was actually quite close. I could see the green in his eyes. “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Director Payne. You can keep telling yourself just that—that I was just another step in this great plan. But deep down, you _know_ that it’s more than that. You know I mean a hell of a lot more to him than anyone in the entire world. You also know that I’m never going to give him away, even if it means freedom. I love him more than you can _possibly_ fathom. So don’t _ever_ assume that he only used me.” My lips spread in a nefarious smile. “Or I’ll kill you.”

Something in me lit up at the slight fear in Liam’s eyes. Something dangerous. Something I’d never felt before.

And I quite liked it.

He said nothing as he shot to his feet and started towards the door.

“You’ve made a mistake, agent!” I called after him, laughing to myself. “When I get out of here, you and that pathetic little team of yours are dead!”


	27. Interrogation 3.0

“Let’s try this again,” Liam said, sitting down at the table. I—on the other hand—was walking around the room, approaching the different guards and trying my hardest to piss them off.

“Try what again?” I asked, leaning forward to flick a piece of dust off an agent’s bulletproof vest. “We were just having a conversation.”

“Tell me where he is and I’ll reduce your sentence,” Liam said, completely ignoring what me.

“Tell you where who is?” I asked, finally taking my seat across from him. “You’ll have to be a bit more specific than that—”

“Don’t play dumb with me!” He shot to his feet, slamming his hands down on the table to he was looking down at me. “You know where he is! So give me an answer!”

I mimicked what he’d done so our faces were inches apart. “News flash, Payno: sometimes you just can’t break them. Especially the ones that know every little detail about your life.” I took his jaw in between my thumb and index finger. “Do you know the saying ‘quit while your ahead?’ You have _me_. Maybe not Harry, but _me_. I’d give up if I were you. Otherwise, you might just end up losing your only valuable piece of information.”

He stormed out a moment later.

*******

“You know what they say,” I smirked as Maya sat across from me. “Third time’s a charm.”

“Shut up,” she snapped. “You have one last chance to tell us where he is, or—”

“Or _what_?” I asked, pretending to inspect my nails. “You’ll keep me in here for the rest of my life? Hate to break it to you, but the guys in here are too scared of me to kill me. I’m their goddamn king. You want to _really_ torture me? Let me go.”

Her expression stayed blank. “I’m not falling for that.”

I shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”

“Why won’t you tell us?” she asked. “You know, there was a time when you would confide in any of us for answers.”

I scoffed. “Yeah, that was before you threw me in jail. Turns out locking someone up for ten years can put a bit of a wedge in your friendship.” I laughed. “Who knew?”

Maya sighed in defeat. “I can’t deal with him. We’ll go again next week.” She stood up.

“Thought you said this was my last chance!”

*******

“Wow, they really are just sending in _everybody_ ,” I said, watching as Niall sat down.

Niall ignored me and got straight to the point. “You can stop with the sarcasm. It’s over, Louis. We found him.”

I kept my face blank as I folded my hands together and leaned forward on my elbows. I met his blue eyes with my own and said, “What?”

“We found him,” Niall repeated. “Harry. And we made sure he stays dead.”

I cocked my head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Really? He’s dead?”

“Yep.” Niall’s face was unreadable. Those years of Bureau training had him as flat as a stone slab. There was no way tell whether or not he was lying—

But then he made a mistake. He looked down, breaking eye contact.

I smirked and leaned forward a bit more. “Tell me, Niall. Where exactly was he?”

He glanced up at me, then back down at the table. “I don’t see how that’s relevant—”

“I already know where he is,” I said. “What’s the harm in telling me again?”

He met my gaze again, fear swirling in his eyes. I stared him down with the most menacing glare I could muster (which was quite menacing, might I add) and flashed him a quick psychotic grin. ‘Cause why not, you know?

He let out a grunt. “Fuck!” He marched out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I laughed loudly and looked up at the camera. “Bit of advice, Payno? Next time you plan to lie, make sure to send someone in that can actually convince me. Got it?”

The door flew open a moment later and Liam stormed in. He grabbed my by the front of my jumpsuit, dragging me to my feet. His eyes were full of a fiery rage that made me chuckle.

“You’re insane,” he growled through gritted teeth.

Remembering something a certain doctor once told me, I tried not to smile and said, “Actually... the correct term is ‘mentally challenged.’”

He threw me back down into my seat. It hurt, yes, but I didn’t feel it. Instead, I laughed loudly and wiped away the bit of blood that had fallen from my nose.

“Careful, Payno,” I said through a smirk. “Don’t you know? Violence is never the answer.”

“Why, you son of a—!” He charged forward, ready to attack, but two other agents grabbed him by his arms before he could touch me. They dragged him out of the room, all while he struggled against them and tried to break free.

I watched him leave, waving and smiling when he looked at me over a guard’s shoulder. I could still hear him shouting even as the door shut.

*******

The next person to try was Gemma. Our plan was working _perfectly_.

“Louis,” she greeted as she sat.

I gave her a smile. “Gemma. Lovely to see you again. How’s the brother?”

She flashed me a knowing look, but quickly replaced it with her poker face. “Louis, if you don’t tell us where he is, we’ll have no choice but to extend your sentence to sixty years.”

I scoffed. “I’m not going to live that long—”

“That’s precisely the point,” she said without so much as a blink.

I knew what she was doing. We’d talked about it during visiting hours. But _damn_ she was good.

I pursed my lips and looked down at my hands. I left my face grim and with regret written all over it. With a small voice, I said, “My old apartment. He lived with me for a while. I told him to go there if we ever got separated or if something happened. It was our... safe house.”

I glanced up at Gemma to see her give me a curt nod.

I knew exactly what that meant.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” she asked. “Guess all that’s left is to break you out of here.”

My head snapped up and I frowned at her. “What?”

That’s when she pulled out the guns.


	28. The Great Escape

My jaw dropped when Gemma pulled out two identical guns. The guards were so shocked and confused that they didn't have time to react before she shot every one of them, killing them all in an instant.

She tossed me the second one, which I took with a grin. She grabbed the key to my chains from one of the dead guards, using it to set me free from my restraints.

“Why can’t _all_ future sisters in law be exactly like you?” I asked as the door opened and I shot the first person that walked into the room.

“I _am_ pretty amazing,” she said.

I chuckled as I pushed my way through the crowd of agents shoving their way into the room. I killed the ones that tried to do the same to me, forcing their newly limp bodies to the ground. But when the next wave of agents turned into my former team... We’ll, actually, nothing changed.

I shot Liam in the thigh, knocked Niall out with a fist to the head, and got Maya in the shoulder.

They were all down in less than ten seconds.

“We’ve gotta go,” Gemma said, glancing at the time. “He’s expecting us in an hour.”

We ran through the prison together, sprinting towards the exit. I laughed like a maniac—probably because I _was_ one—as we went, killing random guards. I felt higher than a goddamn kite. Who knew murder could be so fun?

“Exit’s right over here,” Gemma said, nodding to a large—and guarded—door.

I took care of the armed officers no problem, forcing open the door with brute force. I had this odd surge of adrenaline that just wouldn’t go away.

And I was fucking loving it.

The second I was hit with fresh air, I inhaled deeply and turned my head to the sky. I then threw my arms out to my sides, dropping my gun. I let out a whoop and cried, “Freedom!”

I heard Gemma shush me and laugh. “Move, Louis. You’re gonna get us both killed.” She started pushing me away from the prison, towards the same van that broke Harry and me out of the county jail. We started towards it, Gemma laughing at me as I skipped along.

“Get your ass in the goddamn van,” she said with an eye roll. I followed her orders, getting into the back incase anybody were to look into the windows on our way to wherever the hell we were going. Gemma herself got into the driver’s seat.

As the car started, I leaned back against the wall of the van, exhaling softly. “You know, I don’t remember ‘jail break’ being in the original plan. Thought you were getting me out through a fresh trial.”

“Me too,” Gemma said, pulling away from the detention center. No one was going after us because no one could. Everyone inside was either locked in a cell, incapacitated, or dead. “But Harry just couldn’t wait anymore. He’s been going crazy all over again, not being able to see you.”

I smirked. “Then let’s go see him.”

*******

My eyes fluttered open at the sound of clanging and I looked around to see Gemma standing with the van door open, knocking on the metal. “Rise and shine, inmate.”

I rolled my eyes at her and got to my feet, climbing out of the vehicle. I glanced up at the brick building standing in front of us.

“Where are we this time?” I asked.

“Abandoned apartments,” Gemma replied, starting forward.

“You Styles do love your abandoned buildings,” I smirked, following her into the structure. The interior was broken and full of falling scaffolding. There were ripped curtains hanging from shattered windows and charred countertops.

“Huh,” I said. “Nice place.”

She rolled her eyes at me and hit me upside the back of my head, shoving me towards the stairs. “Top floor.”

“Aw, no working elevator?” I whined as I started the climb, making sure to keep my hands off the charcoal-coated banisters.

“Just shut up and go find the fucking love of your life,” she growled.

I flashed her an innocent smile and continued up the steps. As I went, I noticed how the windows closer to the top were blocked off my ply wood. It was like a goddamned haunted house.

I soon discovered that an elevator _would_ —in fact—have been a hell of a lot easier. There were about twelve floors, each one somehow seeming steeper than the next. And as the adrenaline wore off and the exhaustion kicked in, I suddenly became very aware of how tired I was. Climbing up twelve flights of stairs was _not_ helping.

But I made it. Somehow.

“Down the hall,” Gemma explained from behind me. “Last door on the left.”

I nodded at her words and kept walking until I reached the end of the corridor. I didn’t waste anymore time—I _couldn’t_. I desperately needed to see him.

So I threw open the door and stepped into the room.

Harry—who was in the middle of struggling to sit up—looked up at the noise, his face going from pissed off to incredibly happy in about five seconds. “Oh, thank God.”

I ran forward and dropped to my knees in front of him, taking his hands in mine. I fought back the tears that wanted so badly to fall and said, “I thought you were dead.”

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Harry said, stroking my cheek.

I kissed one of his hands and looked a bit further down, finally noticing the heavy, white bandages covering his torso. The second I did, I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. I dropped my head into his lap and let myself cry, my whole body trembling.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked, putting a hand in my hair and carding his fingers through it.

“It’s _my_ fault,” I whimpered. “ _I_ did this to you.”

“How is this your fault?” he asked. “You did nothing wrong.”

“I called for you,” I sniffled. “I was too weak to get away.”

Harry suddenly grabbed my face in both of my hands, lifting my head up. He made me look him in the eye, his own full of anger.

“Shut up,” he snapped. “This is not your fault. “You are not weak. You are the strongest person I’ve ever known. You had no other choice. Okay? Now stop fucking blaming yourself.”

I wiped the tears from my eyes and held his hands tight once more. I placed my chin on his knee and exhaled. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

He picked my head up again, this time bringing my whole body along as well. He brought my face closer to his, whispering those same three little words before kissing me long and slow. I kissed him back, putting one hand on the bed to steady myself and putting the other just at the nape of his neck. And then I kissed him again, and again, and again.

He slowly dragged me down onto the bed on top of him, but I made sure to hover over him so I wouldn’t _hurt_ him. I moved down to his neck, mouthing at his exposed collarbone.

Harry tugged lightly on my hair, moaning softly. “Oh, I’ve missed you.”

I leaned back up to whisper in his ear, pressing my lips to the soft skin of his cheek. “Tu me manques.”

He exhaled slowly. “You are missing from me.”

I put my forehead against his and smiled, kissing his cheek. “You remember.”

“Of course I remember,” he said, grabbing the hand with the ring he gave me and interlocking our fingers. “How could I forget the day you rejected my proposal?”

I chuckled softly and pulled away so I could look into his eyes. “So ask me.”

He frowned, laughing nervously. “Ask you what?”

“You know what I mean.” I dragged a light knuckle over the side of his face. “Ask me.”

He nodded minutely and did as I said. “Louis... Will you marry me?”

I grinned and kissed him once more. When I pulled away, I said, “Absolutely.”


	29. Lose Control

I planted kisses along Harry’s chest and neck, careful to avoid the bandages wrapped around his torso. I sucked a bruise into the area just below his jaw, smirking when he moaned loudly. He clawed at my back, dragging his nails over my skin. Despite the fact that it _should_ have hurt me, I barely felt a thing.

“Louis,” Harry gasped.

I hummed against his skin, mouthing along his left sparrow tattoo. “Hmm?”

“I, uh—” He exhaled sharply when I nipped at the bruise I’d made. “I’m obviously not strong enough to fuck you right now.”

“So?” I asked, my voice muffled by my lips against his skin. “What do you think we should do?”

“I could... eat you out,” he suggested.

I felt my pants tighten at his words and I moaned softly into his neck.

“Yeah?” he asked breathlessly. “You want that?”

I nodded frantically and rolled off of him. I placed my head up by the pillows and moved my hands down to the fastens on my pants, undoing them with unnatural speed.

Harry rolled over and settled himself between my legs, grabbing the waistband of my pants. He pulled them down quickly, his eyes darkening with lust when he saw my hard cock.

“God, you’re so pretty, baby,” he moaned, pressing a kiss to the tip of my member. He mouthed along my shaft, all the way down to my balls. He moved down even further, licking a small circle around my hole.

I whimpered softly. “D-Daddy...”

Harry dragged his tongue over my hole, moaning softly against my skin. He gripped my thighs in his big hands, lifting them up. Understanding, I grabbed the underside of my knees and held my legs folded up like that, giving him more access.

“Mmm, I forgot how good you taste,” he said before shoving his tongue up into me.

I groaned. “Well, I forgot how good you are at this.”

He snickered softly and pulled away, ghosting his thumb over my hole. “So pretty.” He traced the ring of muscles with a finger before slowly pushing that same finger into me, making me moan.

“Fuck, Haz,” I gasped.

“Hmm, you like it when I finger you like this, don’t you?” He pushed a second finger in at my nod. “I love watching you fall apart from just my fingers.”

I moaned once more when I felt him add a third finger. I bit my lip and groaned right through it, running a hand through my hair. He pressed a few kisses to the skin just beside my hole, making me shudder slightly. And then he sped up the movement of his fingers, making me hum.

“You’re so good for me, baby, taking my fingers just like that,” Harry said, once again speeding up his hand. “So, so good for me.”

I moaned loudly when I felt him hit my prostate. “Oh, shit, Hazza!”

He chuckled softly. “Are you gonna come from just my fingers, baby? Do you just want me that much?”

I groaned low in my throat. “Fuck, yeah. God, you’re gonna make me come.”

“So fucking come for me, you slut,” Harry snapped. “C’mon, I love to watch you scream my name.”

My back arched wildly off the bed as I came, crying out from pleasure. “Oh, _fuck_ , Harry!”

Careful not to hurt himself, he pulled his fingers out of me and crawled up the bed, pressing a heated kiss to my lips. I let go of my legs and let him kiss along my neck.

“You came so hard, baby,” Harry observed.

“Well, you’re the one that made me,” I said, panting softly. After a moment, I asked, “Can I suck you off, now?”

Harry sighed. “I guess.”

“Well, don’t sound so excited,” I scoffed, carefully rolling us over.

He chuckled, ruffling my hair as I slid down his body. “Just make me come, Lou.”

I nodded and pulled off his pants and boxers as quickly as I could. I then picked his cock up off his stomach and placed it in my mouth. I moved slowly, taking him inch by inch. I heard Harry moan when he hit the back of my throat, which prompted me to pull off of him. Then I sucked lightly on the head of his member, satisfied when he gasped.

“Baby,” he groaned, tugging on my hair. “Mmm, so _fucking_ good.”

I smirked at this and decided to take him all the way in one go, feeling as his hand tightened in my hair. My head started bobbing up and down as if it had an agenda of its own, going all the way down and all the way up every time. I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock, sucking lightly.

“Louis,” Harry whined. “Louis, _fuck_.”

I squeezed his thigh with one hand, letting him know that he could come whenever he wanted. He took this as his cue, coming right down my throat. I swallowed every last drop without hesitation, raising myself up and forcing my tongue into his mouth.

He pulled away, licking his lips. “Damn, I taste good.”

I chuckled and shook my head. “Psycho.”

“You _love_ how fucking crazy I am,” he growled.

“I _do_ ,” I admitted, whispering in his ear. “I love watching you lose control. It’s so goddamn hot.”

“And you love me too, don’t you?” he asked, putting his hands on my ass and squeezing roughly.

“I do,” I said. “I love you so fucking much. I love your lips.” I pressed a kiss to his mouth. “And your tattoos.” I mouthed along the ‘17BLACK’ written in ink on his chest. “And your beautiful scars.” I licked over one of the large ones, kissing the end of it. “And everything about you.”

“Don’t you _dare_ make me hard again,” he demanded. “Coming is difficult enough when I can barely move. You don’t have to double the burden.”

“I’m sorry, Hazza,” I whispered, peppering kisses along his jaw. “You’re just so beautiful.”

“Louis,” he said with a giggle. “Stop.”

But I didn’t stop. I kept kissing all over his body.

“Louis, I said stop,” he snapped, pushing lightly at my chest.

And yet, I didn’t even flinch.

“Louis, get off of me!” He shoved me off of him and the bed as well, causing me to crash to the floor.

I glared up at him, pulling me pants back up and buttoning them. “What the fuck was that?”

“Are you kidding me?!” Harry put his own pants back on and rolled off the mattress. “What the fuck was _that_?! Why wouldn’t you stop?!”

“I thought you wanted me!” I shouted, getting to my feet.

“I already _had_ you!” he cried. “What is wrong with you, Louis?! You _never_ do this!”

“Fucking hell, Hazza,” I growled. “It’s not like I was going to fucking _rape_ you!”

“Well, how the hell am _I_ supposed to know that?!” he cried. “Something is wrong with you!”

“You mean because I wanted to kiss you?!” I asked. “So, what, now I’m insane too?”

He scoffed. “I never said that—”

“Well, it sure as hell sounded like it!” I spat.

“I can’t deal with this.” He started towards the bathroom door, but I grabbed his wrist before he could reach it. He looked down at his arm in my hand and glared up at me. “Let go of me!”

I tightened my grip on him, anger flashing in my eyes. “First, tell me what the hell is wrong with you.”

He wrenched his wrist out of my hand and flipped me off. “Go fuck yourself, Louis.” He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.


	30. Let’s Go Crazy, Crazy, Crazy

I watched the door shut, my blood boiling. How _dare_ he walk out on me like that?! Who the hell did he think he was?!

I cried out in anger and struck forward, placing a clean hole right through the wall. As I pulled my fist out of the broken plaster, I saw the vibrant, red blood coating my knuckles. But I barely felt it. In fact, it just fueled my anger more.

I grabbed the old lamp—that most likely didn’t work—off the table beside the door, throwing it to the floor. The ceramic shattered with a loud _smash_ , scattering broken pieces all over the floor. I tore books from the shelves, the sheets from the bed, and old frames from the walls. And when I was done, I sat down on the edge of the bed, my head pounding.

That’s when I heard the whispers.

_He hurt you. He deserves to be punished._

I clutched at my hair. “No. No, no, no. I am _not_ going crazy.”

_Face it, you little bitch. You’ve gone insane, just like him. Might as well bond over it while you still can._

“NO!” I roared loudly, rocking myself to try and calm down.

There was a knock at the door. “Louis?”

I shook my head. “GO AWAY!”

“Louis.” Harry rattled the door knob and pounded on the door. “Louis, baby, let me in!”

“I don’t _want_ to _talk_!” I shouted. “Leave me _alone_!”

“Louis, come on!” he cried.

I shot to my feet, crossed the room to the door, and threw it open. Grabbing him by the neck, I walked him over to the wall on the opposite side of the hallway. I tightened my grip on him a raised him up.

“Louis,” he gasped out, clawing at my hand around his neck, which is putting quite a bit of pressure on him. “Louis, p-p-put me down.”

“Not until you tell me what you did to me,” I growled.

He frowned, his face slowly turning red. “What?”

“I’m hearing voices,” I told him. “I’ve never heard them before.” I squeezed his neck rather hard. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!”

“N-Nothing!” he stammered. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you!”

“Stop lying!” I demanded.

“I’m not lying!” he whimpered. “Whatever’s happening to you, it’s just _you_!”

“I’m _not_ crazy!” I protested, trying to convince myself more than him.

“I never said you were. Louis, please,” he begged, tears filling up his eyes. “You’re hurting me.”

Something snapped. I don’t know if it was Harry showing his vulnerable side, his nails tearing at my skin, or just me realizing that I really _had_ gone insane. But whatever it was, I snapped. Just like a twig.

I dropped him suddenly, breathing hard. Harry collapsed to the ground, coughing violently and clutching at his neck. I backed away from him, my head and heart pounding.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my hands shaking. “I’m so sorry.” My back hit the wall and I slid to the ground, my face blank. It’s like I couldn’t feel... _anything_.

When Harry could finally breathe again, he crouched down in front of me. He reached for my hand, but I pulled away.

“Don’t touch me,” I warned him. “I’ll hurt you again.”

Tears were pouring down his soft cheeks, shining in the faint hallway light. “Louis... It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is.” I hugged my knees to my chest. “I hurt you. That was _me_ , not anybody else.”

He grabbed my hands in a strong grip. It was a grip _so_ strong in fact that I couldn’t pull away. “Baby, you’ll be okay. We’ll get through this. Together. Like always.”

I pressed my forehead to his, sobbing softly. He studied my bloodied knuckles in his hands.

“Doesn’t that hurt, baby?” he questioned.

I shook my head. “No. I... I can’t feel a thing.”


	31. Numb

“So you’re saying that you can’t feel _anything_?” Harry asked, who was sitting on the couch, watching me pace.

“Exactly,” I said. To prove my point, I grabbed a piece of glass from one of the broken picture frames.

Catching on, Harry tried to stop me. “Wait, Louis, don’t—!”

Before I even realized what I was doing, I brought the glass across my wrist, watching the cut bloom on its own. I studied the blood in fascination as it dripped down my forearm. “Absolutely nothing.”

Harry stood up from his seat, his meadow-green eyes scanning me with adoration in them. He stepped towards me, taking my injured hand in one of his own. “So... you can’t feel anything?”

I shook my head.

“Not even... this?” He brought my wound to his mouth and stuck his tongue out, licking up some of my blood.

I exhaled tremulously, my eyelids fluttering. “No, I-I-I can feel that.”

He smirked before sucking lightly on my wound, my blood spreading around his mouth. He licked up more blood, moaning softly against my skin.

I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards the couch. I sat down on it, pulling Harry into my lap. He sucked and licked at my cut wrist, sending vibrations through my arm as he groaned low in his throat.

I threw my head back, gasping out a moan. “Hazza...”

He finally put my hand down, tearing off my shirt. He brought his bloody lips forward, pressing kisses all over my chest and neck. I let out a moan at every touch, absentmindedly rolling my hips up into him. He sat up and kissed me, forcing me to taste my own blood. I groaned into his mouth at the salty taste, grabbing at the hem of his shirt. He got the memo, pulling it up and over his head.

“I need you,” I gasped out against his lips.

“I want to ride you,” Harry whispered in my ear.

I moaned loudly just at the thought, squeezing his ass roughly.

“Yeah?” he breathed against my neck. “You want to fuck me? You want to put that beautiful cock of yours inside of me?”

I nodded eagerly, slipping my hands into the back pockets of his jeans. I kneaded his ass with my strong hands, feeling as lust took me over. He tugged off my belt quickly, pulling out my hard cock. I pulled down his pants, revealing his ass and his big, hard cock. He wasted no time in sinking down, both of us moaning loudly.

He quickly started rocking, moving his hips at a quick pace. I spat out a long list or profanities, rocking right along with him.

“Fuck, Louis,” he gasped, leaning his forehead against my chest. “So good.”

“Your ass feels so amazing,” I groaned. “You’re so fucking tight.”

He moaned impossibly loud, speeding up his movement. “You’re gonna make me come, Lou. Make me come. Please, for fuck’s sake, make me come.”

So I did just that, grabbing Harry’s hard cock, with is dripping with precome. I jerked him off at a quick pace, feeling him clench around me when he comes hard and fast.

He continued rocking, slowing down, but moving harder. He looked up into my eyes. “Come inside of me, baby. Come on. I want to feel you.”

I did just that, my back arching off the couch when I came. My chest was heaving as I panted hard, my skin glistening with sweat from the strain and my blood from Harry’s lips.

He exhaled slowly. “Well, at least we know you’re not _totally_ numb.”

I let out a scoff. “Nope. Guess not.”


	32. Stupid Psychopathy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven’t updated in a while, but it’s been a crazy couple of weeks and I’ve been super busy. But I’m back now! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

It had been about two weeks since we discovered that I could no longer feel pain. I could still bleed and get hurt—it wasn’t like I was immortal or some shit—but I couldn’t actually _feel_ it. Sometimes Harry would try to catch me by surprise to see if I was faking it, but I never even flinched. Not even that time when he shot me in the leg.

God, I loved him.

“I’m sorry about that,” Harry whispered in my ear, placing a gentle hand over the bandage on my thigh.

I shrugged. “Can’t even feel it.”

He laughed loudly, the sound music to my fucking ears. I leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, causing him to fluff up my hair. I smiled at this, leaning my head against his shoulder. I closed my eyes for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of being so close to him.

But my eyes fluttered open when he asked, “What you got there?”

I glanced down at the notebook in my hands, hesitating slightly before giving it to him. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him—of _course_ I trusted him—I just wasn’t sure if I trusted myself to have sane enough thoughts for him to understand.

Which, by the way, he didn’t.

“What is all this?” he asked with a frown on his face as he flipped through the pages.

“Everything the voices say,” I mumble, my cheek pressed against his shoulder.

“You keep track?” he questioned softly.

I nodded as best as I could, gently reaching for the book. He handed it back to me with only the slightest bit of doubt in his movements. I knew he wanted to talk. I’d learned how to read him a long time ago. But I wasn’t sure if I was _ready_ to talk. I didn’t really know what was happening to me. I was pretty sure I was going crazy. I’d figured that much out. But I wasn’t sure just _how_ crazy I was going.

“Louis?” Harry whispered.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Please be honest. Are. You. Okay?”

I sniffled softly, feeling tears well up in my eyes. I knew the answer to that question. Of course I did.

Harry shifted beneath me as he turned to look at me and I felt a hand on my cheek. “Hey, hey, baby, don’t cry. What’s wrong?”

I broke down just like that, letting out a broken sob. When he realized what was happening, Harry wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. I buried my face in his chest, clutching at his shirt.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” I choked out. “I’m scared, Harry. I’m so, so scared.”

“I know, baby, I know.” He stroked my head lightly before pressing a kiss to my unruly hair. “I’m right here. You’re safe.”

_He’s lying,_ one of the voices snapped. _He doesn’t care about you. You’re nothing but a fuck toy to him._

“No,” I whimpered, holding him tighter. “He’s not a liar.”

Harry tensed beneath me at my words, but I didn’t acknowledge it. I was too caught up in the voices in my head to care. I just sobbed into his chest while he tried to calm me down with soothing words, although they were mostly cancelled out by the hissing in my mind.

“I love you, Louis,” he said against my head. “You know that, right?”

I nodded, sniffling softly. “I know.”

“And I’ll always protect you,” he said. “Always.”

I pulled my face away from his chest, looking up to see Harry’s eyes rimmed with tears. Before I could snap again, I surged forward and kissed him gently, barely pressing my lips to his. I had no idea why I was hesitating. Was I even hesitating, or was I waiting for him to make the first move?

I had no idea.

But Harry didn’t seem to notice. He just placed a hand in my hair and slammed our lips together. I tried to melt into the kiss like I always did, but I just couldn’t. I was too tense—my head was clouded with voices and none of them were my own.

Ugh, couldn’t the insanity hold off just for us to fuck?

Stupid psychopathy.


End file.
